Pokemon VGC: Tournament of Champions
by NightFall00
Summary: In preparation for the next game, featuring the pokemon of all five regions, the Pokemon Company has decided to take seventeen people to make parties for each element, using a specialized game cartridge. But before the competition, one of them is stolen. Now the sixteen representatives have to work together to not only survive, but become true champions of pokemon.
1. Escape

I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I'm a crazy nut-job, who just likes writing new stories and never updating the ones he has. Well, that could be either a yes or a no. The truth of the matter is that my mind comes up with some many different ideas that they only work for stories that aren't even in print anywhere on fanfic, and it is my belief that if you want a certain kind of story out there in the world, you have to write it yourself. Aside from that, my only excuse for this one is that I really want to make a VGC fanfic, but it can only work if I find some way to keep myself interested. So, as always, this is an OC submission, the form is on my profile, under my form for Back to Basics, and for those of you wondering I only have two more tests this week for finals, so I'll be able to start writing a bit more often when I get back home for winter break, which will end in early January, considering the Mayan Prophecy is false. Fair warning, the theme of this story is based on a real battle I did with my brothers, and my sister's ex-boyfriend.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Prologue: Escape

Have you ever felt the need for an escape in your life? Not to say that there really is a need for you to run away, but more in a metaphorical sense. A retreat, place of solitude or peace, a sanctuary, if you will, are some of the many kinds of places that people build for themselves to truly be who they want to be, and can't have anyone tell them they can't. People who try to find an escape are often the kind of people who are always worried about what people know about them, or what people do to them. Granted, these escapes don't always have to be a place, but can be a hobby that they do in secret, or sometimes just casually, and lose themselves into it. For a lot of people, these hobbies quickly become obsessions if not taken care of by a control, but at the same time, it also makes the use of the hobby all the more essential. In the grand scheme of things, controls, hobbies, obsessions, and everything connected are a great big paradox, making up just one of the complexities of life.

* * *

My vision was extremely blurred out by the constant flashing light in my face as she just continued clicking the button on her camera. My face couldn't help but be overthrown with blush as I kept trying to turn away from facing her directly. However, my movements weren't as stealthy as I would've liked, and she always angled my head back to face the shutter. I could list off maybe a hundred different emotions currently running through my body, but the one that prevailed over all the others was definitely embarrassment, which seemed to make her want to do to this to me more.

* * *

By anyone's standards, she was beautiful. Whether it had to do with her matured body, or her silky, black hair was anyone's guess, but they were probably some of the definite defining features. Her skin was a milky complexion, probably from where she grew up, and given this was Japan, seems appropriate. As said her hair was considered, just by vision, to be silky smooth, a raven black color, reaching down to her waist, and her bangs reaching just over her eyes. Her eyes, while on the subject, were a dark, brilliant colored blue having one of the friendliest expressions in them. Like anybody her age, which was probably twenty one given her height of about five foot ten, her wardrobe was more befitting a lady in college. Consisting of a long skirt, dress shirt, and string tie all being of a very monochrome blue color, she seemed to be the kind of girl any person would want to hang around…all except me.

* * *

The flashing lights stopped at last as she stood up, and walked by me, running her fingers through my hair before sitting down behind me at her desk. "You can go change if you want to," she said, as I nodded, and stood up, passing by the mirror on her closet, disgusted by the sight of myself. "Ah, I'm so lucky to have a little brother who looks better in girl's clothes," she said, as I opened the closet, and quickly put my only clothes back on with a depressed look on my face.

* * *

I closed to closet, and looked back at myself. I looked no different than anyone else at my age, fourteen, but everybody says that my face is as girly as the next one. It was true, some of my facial features were more delicate and feminine, but I never put so much worry into it, seeing as I figured it wouldn't be a big deal. Well, the fact that I never get a haircut doesn't help, and I have hair similar in feel to the woman at the desk looking through some of the pictures. The only difference being that my hair is a light amber color as opposed to her black hair. I'm short, maybe, five foot two about, but again, I never thought so much about my own physical features as being something that could be used against me. Outside of her junior high uniform, the girl let me change back into my blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a red and black pleated jacket.

"You're as popular as ever, Sasha-kun," the girl said, showing me a website where one of the pictures she had just taken was on the page. "You should see these comments," she said scrolling down the page, to show hundreds of comments already under my picture. "I wish my little brother was this cute," "Is that really a guy?," "Would you mind if I borrow him? ;)," were just some of the ones I could read from her scrolling so fast.

"Why do you do this to me, Nee-chan?" I asked, indicating the woman at the desk was my older sister.

"Because that cute face of yours is wasted on you being a boy," she said, turning in her chair to face me. "Why else would I save my old junior high clothes? They fit you just so perfectly; it's why you're so popular on the internet."

"At least I won't be here much longer," I said, pulling a small band out of my hair, letting it fall more naturally. "Then I can't be treated as your little toy."

"Actually, it just means I have to keep taking pictures until you leave next week," she said, holding up her camera with a sly smile on her face. "Here," she said, throwing a small card to me from her desk. "Why don't you get yourself something to eat. The union building is still open. Just tell them that your Natsumi Takebana's brother, and it'll work out just fine for you."

"Hasn't worked out well for me in the past," I said, stuffing the small credit card into my pocket, and walked out of the room.

* * *

Outside of my sister's dorm building, I let out a large sigh of relief, and took my time walking to the student union building of her college campus. For some reason, every time our parents go on a trip, they dump me with her instead of leaving me at home alone. Then again, based on what my sister does to me all the time, I'm starting to see why. My sister, Natsumi Takebana is actually my half sister from a different father that our mother divorced. Supposedly, he slipped into depression because Natsumi wasn't born male, and our mother was quick to file a divorce out of concerns for her safety. Seven years later, she married a man she met while touring Moscow, and from that came my father, Natsumi's step father, and, of course, me. It's why my name isn't Japanese like Natsumi's. Sasha is sort of like Alex in English; a shortened version for Alexander, but at the same time, is also like Alex in that it can be unisex. Needless to say, based on that scene back there, my sister likes to take advantage of my feminine features, and my unisex name for her enjoyment, but I still believe that she cares for me…she just has a funny way of doing so.

I walked into the union building, a large structure, in the center of the college campus that had accommodations for every student's dining preference, a small café for those just passing through from class, and all the comforts of home. For me, however, it was just another reminder that I was in the place of the woman that liked to put me in skirts, tie my hair in a pony-tail or pig-tails, and at one point was tempted to paint my toenails. I let out another sigh, and walked towards one of the dining options, and showed them the card. Without a word, they were able to figure out who I was, and brought me what I ordered about a minute later.

"Here you go," the man behind the counter said. "Boy, the Takebana family sure is fortunate. Two cute girls in that family," he began saying, as his rambling was cut-off in my head by a shock of realization that came every time this happened.

"_Nobody is ever gonna see me as a boy, are they?"_ I asked myself, walking with my tray of food towards one of the back corners of the dining hall, just imagining all the looks I must've been getting at that point. _"I don't know who to blame for this; my sister for making me dress up as a girl as though it were a game, my parents for leaving me here, myself for being so girly in appearance, my mother for giving off more of her appearance to me, or maybe I should blame my father for marrying her. No matter whom I was going to blame, I at least knew that there had to be a few people that could figure I was a guy, right?"_

"Hey, check out that cute girl over there," somebody said as my head sunk.

"…_I guess not,"_ I said as I shuffled through my bag, and pulled out a game system with one of the game cartridges already tucked into the top slot. _"Let's see, I have about a week to get this last one done, and then I just have to wait,"_ I said to myself, as the game's title screen read across the top screen, "Pokémon: Gym Leader Trial Version." _"I have to say, the Pokémon Company really has outdone themselves with this one. Too bad nobody else has this game, otherwise, it'd be easier for people to understand what I'm doing. Seventeen copies of this game were made for the use in a large international tournament for the development of another game that would be coming out next year. The premise of this game, however, is for the purposes of the tournament, only."_

Breaking apart my chopsticks, and holding my hands together, I clapped them once, beginning to eat the large bowl of noodles I ordered. As I ate my noodles with a long slurp, I looked back over at my game, and stared at the player character in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. I activated the start menu, and went straight to my trainer card. I smiled at the picture of the trainer, who, aside from the obvious markers of height, and muscle mass, looked a lot like me. We both shared a similar hair color and length, and we both wore fairly similar attire, even if his jacket was ripped to the elbows, and the rest of his arms were wrapped up in bandages.

* * *

Truth be told, the Pokémon games have really been a way to get out a lot of frustrations that I hold against my sister. I spend a lot of time pretending that my sister is my opponent, and that ever defeat I give her is a bit of a win for me, so it balances out from everything she does for me. And thanks to this game, I won't have to deal with her for a near two months time.

There were sixteen people chosen at the last regional competitions worldwide to play the game, and then participate in a tournament that had to do with the character development for it. See, the idea behind this game is that the player is not trying to beat the Pokémon League as much as he trying to become part of the Elite Four. To do this, the Pokémon Company made seventeen individual games that were programmed to specialize a character in one element from the game's start, and have since, forced the user to have only that element. From that, the final touches to the game, the player's themselves, were based primarily on the appearance of the ones playing the game. The sixteen people chosen, weren't actually the winners, but that ones that were able to make it far enough through the tournament with one of their pokémon shining out among the rest. In reality, they just chose the element you specialized in at random.

When I was in the regional tournament back in Moscow, while on a family trip, I was able to get into the semi-finals before I got beat pretty badly by someone. Afterwards, one of the representatives from the Pokémon Company gave me the game, and told me that during the months of January and February I would be participating in a tournament as both a representative from Russia, but also as a definite character in the next mainstream Pokémon Game. They told me that the game they had given me was for a fighting type gym leader, which I was a little disappointed about since my favorite type has always been psychic, but I went with it.

I played through the game relatively quickly, and by the end of it, I had every possible fighting type there could be, but I could only choose six for this tournament. Truthfully, though, it's pretty easy to figure out what pokémon you're going to use for something when you only have a few choices to choose from. People who're training ghosts, darks, or any other small element have it pretty easy as well. The only weird part about this tournament so far is that the Pokémon Company was broken into, the night before they were going to unveil the game to the public, and release our names to the press. The game programmed for a dragon type gym leader was stolen, and there's been no word on it since. People speculate it was just some sort of obsessed fan that was mad that he didn't get in. As for me, I'm fine with my element, and have actually been able to see the good points in them while making my team.

The tournament's system is actually pretty simple to follow; you are allowed six pokémon that coincide with one element, and the format for the battle changes depending on the tournament location. The tournament takes place over a span of eight different countries; U.S.A., Great Britain, China, Russia, Japan, France, Spain, and Germany. The sixteen people participating are all playing for their character's rank in the next game's Pokémon League. The higher you rank, the more chances you have of being an Elite Four member, or a Frontier Brain. But this is also why it's unclear if the reason that the dragon version was stolen was because of the desire of one person to be part of the tournament. The game we'll all appear in features eight gyms, four Elite Four members, a Champion, and four Frontier Brains. Our initial party for the game is based on a random choice by the game developers with only one of our pokémon the way it is, and then our rematch party is based on the party we used for this tournament.

The style of playing is going to a lot like the usual tournament format, but with a bit of realism, thanks to a simulator screen that we'll be using to spice up the battles. The mechanics of the simulator are based on voice operations, and the simulated pokémon will battle much like how they do on the TV show, but the idea of game mechanics still in play. Meaning that a Pikachu isn't going to be able to shock the living daylights out of an Onix, if you get my meaning. This tournament is said to be fully televised, but my biggest worry isn't going to based on the tournament itself, because I know that I'll be in the next game instead of on my sister's homepage. My biggest worry is the other people involved in the tournament; what problems are going to be along the way that may have nothing to do with pokémon, what parts of us are going to grow, or die on their backsides, and what is going to be the true meaning behind why the game cartridge for a dragon gym leader was stolen? I hope as much as you do that this crime is solved before this tournament is over, or it could mean the end of pokémon.

* * *

Prologue complete. I know, it's a little different then my other attempts at a story like this, but whatever. So, just for a little clarification on the chapter, if some of you found it hard to follow; the first part is something that happened to Sasha a lot in his life, and the second part is Sasha's narration of the tournament's format, and the major plot point which is the theft of the dragon themed game. As Sacha said, the fact that he was chosen for a fighting type gym is random, as will be the elements that I choose for you. So, please don't start filling in the form until I give you the element I have chosen for you. There will also be an explanation for how I choose them for your convenience. Until then, happy reading! Ja nee.


	2. Czar

Hey guys, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood writer with the mind that could beat the entirety of the nearest mental ward when it comes to insanity. As you all know, I said that when my winter break began, I would try to get you all some new chapters to read, and this is true in a way. My main focus for winter break will be this VGC story, because I think that with the character's I've gotten so far, I can really make something of this story, and I'm helping myself along the way by noting something about each character in my master list. Sort of a title to call them by, if you so wish. Anyway, starting off, we get a little bit more into Sasha, and his personality, and his role as the fighting type trainer. I understand that some of you have been disappointed a little by your elements, but, rest assured, they were all random, some of you got something you liked, but rarely was it ever the element you really wanted to use. And I appreciate one person in particular for shouldering the burden of normal types. This one truly is a writer worthy of honor. But, you've heard me talk enough; let's get into the good stuff.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Czar

Can you ever think of a time when you didn't want to be around anyone anymore? That feeling you get when you want to just leave this world forever, and never return, no matter how frightening a thought that may be? People often say to those in that place that they know how they feel, but is that really true? Can you look into that person's eyes and see the sorrow that comes from being alone in their mind, unable to look forward and see the eventual sunrise? Can you look into that person's eyes and see the same desire for death that you have, begging for it to come and end you once and for all? I didn't think so. You met me last time; I'm Sasha Takebana, and there hasn't been a day that goes by when I don't feel that way, ever since then.

* * *

I was walking back from the union building at my sister's college campus, having finished my dinner, and quickly found myself enthralled with my game. As I allowed the hypnotic screen to blur my vision around me, it was easy to walk straight into one of the students walking towards the union building; a large man with the eyes of a dangerous beast on the prowl. As I regained my balance, I could see that he was unfazed by the blow, and simply turned around, only his head, to face me, as though he were part of some biker gang. Although, from the way his hair extended outward several inches, it wasn't all that hard to imagine.

"What do you think you're doing, girly!?" he asked angrily as I fell back with a straight and depressed look on my face. "Didn't you hear me, jou-chan?" he asked again, picking me up by my collar, and lifting me several inches into the air.

My face didn't change, even as he threw his fist back, it made me feel as though I wanted it. For the longest time, I had used a simple video game as an escape to take out my frustrations out on a person I knew cared for me so much. That stupidity I held close to my heart made me feel as though that when that punch actually struck me, it would give me satisfaction for what I've done, and atonement. I was calm as he brought his fist to my face, and suddenly froze, as though he could feel the sensation of bloodlust behind him. The expression in my eyes were stilled relaxed as I motioned behind him, making him notice the long black hair flowing behind the currently demonic face of my sister.

"Konban wa, Onee-chan," I said with a small wave to her, as she waved back, making the thug look back and forth between us. I could tell he was making note of every difference between us; our hair color, body type, height, eye color, and even areas that I'm still not comfortable talking about. "Ah, you've got the murder aura around you again," I said, pointing at her, signaling the man to turn to her. Upon which, he was met by a large smile, but an irritated look that seemed to radiate a dark purple aura around her.

"What are you doing with my brother?" she asked as the thug, gave a small, nervous chuckle, placing back on my feet on the ground, and began to creep away. "Wait, for a little bit," she said, as the man froze in a position as though he were in the army. "You okay, Sasha-kun?" she asked as she began to look at my body from head to toe, and from my guess, trying to find the justifiable reason to maul the man. "Hmm…" she began as the thug perked up, terrified as to what would happen. "Did you push my darling brother to the ground?" she asked, grabbing the man by his collar, and doing the same thing he had just done to me, noticing the patches of dirt on my bottom.

"O-Of course not, Natsumi-sama," he said, trying to muster up as much respect as possible, so she would spare his life.

"Is this true, Sasha?" Natsumi asked, as I was already buried into the top screen of my game.

"Yes and no," I answered, not wanting to look at what was currently going on from the shouting of the man, and the battle cries from my sister. _"Maybe I should've rephrased that," _I said to myself, looking up at the gathering clouds. As the darkened colored clouds began to release their contents, I held out my hands to catch one, and watched it melt. _"Snow, huh? It was snowing on that day, as well,"_ I recalled, looking back down at my screen, and thinking into my past.

* * *

I was living in Moscow with my parents, and they said they were going on a trip that they couldn't bring me along on. I wasn't sure what they meant, and though it was nothing but a joke, until they left in the early morning. I tried to stop them, but they left, and told me to wait for somebody to come and pick me up. I never thought they would seriously leave me all alone, but there I was waving goodbye to the parents I thought never even thought about me. And if they ever did, it was in contempt. I waited at the doorstep for somebody to come to the house, but no one ever did.

It was like that for a good four hours, the time on the clock just passing by, as though it never paid any attention to me. I'm sure my parents figured that the person coming for me would be at the house soon after they left, but at the same time, part of me believed that they were lying about ever loving me. I was betrayed by the people I was told would be my guiding light throughout my life, and the worst part is, I wasn't sure if they even felt regret. I'd like to say my heart was filled with patience and regret, but instead it was of fear, and sorrow. I decided to take the initiative, and set out on my own to try and find this person. Eight years old, and left alone by my parents wasn't exactly how I felt that I should've been spending the Sabbath.

I reached the chapel where we always went, and I asked the pastor if anybody had come asking about me. To my expectance, there was no one looking for me, at least according to him, but asked if I would like him to pray on it. I told him that it would be nice, and ask if God really did love me. I was always taught that God loves all of his creations no matter what, but if so, why would he let my parents just leave me alone? The pastor told me he didn't have an answer, and that it was a matter between me and the Almighty. I vaguely understood, and set back out for home, which is when things started to turn bad.

Snow in Russia is a common thing, but the more dangerous part of Russia in the winter time, is just that…Russia in the winter time. Rarely going above twenty degrees in December, Russian winters are often known for being harsh, unforgiving, and often deadly to those who aren't prepared for it…I wasn't prepared. My shivering, winter coat, scarf, and everything I had one me when I left was keeping me alive, but even I had known about people who thought they were warm enough to keep going. They were wrong; for some it took a mere three hours before they froze, and if it were me, as small as I was, I would probably be lucky to last an hour. People often say that fire is a horrible way to die, and that freezing is a more comfortable way. The only problem is it's slow.

Freezing to death comes in three stages; weakness of the body, deliriousness, and then your entire inner system becoming too cold to operate. I figured it wasn't worth it at that point to even bother with the hallucinations, and just let the first step skip to the third. It was already beginning to set in; the weakness of the body, and the idea that the snow could make the most comfortable death bed in Moscow. I brought the crucifix around my neck to my face, and said a quick prayer through my head. If I remember correctly, it went a little like this…"Dear merciful father in heaven, I thank you for the years you have given me, but I must ask if taking my parents away was because you love me, or if you hate me. I doubt any other than you could ever love a person as unnatural as me, and I now ask you for one of two things. Let death come to me quickly, and take me to you, or send me the one person whom you believe actually cares about me. I pray this in your holy son's name, amen."

In some strange way, the prayer helped to calm my nerves, and I took a small drift of snow towards the side of a building as my final resting place. Despite it being frozen in temperature, the warm feeling of being able to lie down quickly came over me. It didn't take too long before I was fast asleep, and finding the post in which I would be most comfortable. As I could feel my eyes flicker, I began to see the bright lights all around me, and I smile, thinking that this was indeed my destination, where I could be with the one being that actually bothered to care about me.

When I opened my eyes completely though, my sight was obstructed by the sight of a hand, rested comfortably over my eyes, probably unintentionally. As I tried to move, I could feel an arm's grip around my torso, holding my arms in place, tighten, pressing my back against the body of a female, and I think it's fairly obvious how I know. I felt the hand over my eyes, move to my head, where she began to stroke me head, as though I were some kind of pet. I wasn't sure what to feel about this situation, but all I knew was that I wasn't in heaven, and the feeling of relief washing over me indicated I had not fallen into the abyss. I tried to move again, but her grip became even tighter, even so far as to wrapping her legs around mine to keep me from progressing any further.

"Kto eto?" I asked, still weak from whatever bit of the cold was still nipping at me.

"Ya tvoya cectra," she replied, indicating she was my sister. "Menya zobut Natsumi, a tebya zobut Sasha," she said, still holding me close up against her. "Ochen priyatno," she said, drifting back to sleep.

That was the first time I had ever met Natsumi, and when everything began to either go good or bad for me ever since. On the plus side, I learned that any trip our parents made was only temporary, and that Natsumi would either come to Moscow, or I would go to Hokkaido in Japan for a while. The first time I went to her, though, was when things really started to turn for the worse, and her habit of cross-dressing me was born. I was barely ten, if that much, and she decided it would be fun to dress me up in her old clothes, and it slowly became an obsession for her. And yet, seeing her be so protective of me in almost any circumstance is what makes her the older sister, I've come to accept for who she is. Some parts just need to be toned down a bit.

* * *

Natsumi had just finished her wrestling session with the thug, and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, leading me back to the dorm building as though nothing had happened. I looked back, and saw a sight that most TV stations would try to censor out making me wonder just how much was she willing to do for my sake, and how was she going to survive without her little brother for the next two months. As the path began to fill up with the ice crystals, I was almost sure that Natsumi was wondering what kind of emotions were running through my head, and quite frankly, so did I. Snow was sort of a mixed sign for me; one the one hand, it was a fact of life for me back in Russia, two, it was a sign of my near death experience, and three, it was the first time that God ever directly answered my prayer in front of me. I gripped the rosary on my neck, and gave a small smile that Natsumi noticed, and was sure to take advantage of.

It was quiet inside her room; almost too quiet for my taste. Even though she had saved me, and was no doubt waiting to use it against me, Natsumi made no attempts to change my clothes, give me some to change into, or anything that would be of the like. Instead she just sat at her computer, scrolling through all the pictures she had taken in the last week; some of which made me turn instantly red with embarrassment. The ones in her old swimsuits, specifically, but I digress. I noticed she had a special folder just for pictures of me, and was running through them a slideshow in a speed five times faster than most speed readers could discern. It was as though she were looking for something specific, and then tensed her seated stance as I sat down on the second bed in the room, holding up my game system to make it easier to see.

"So that's what I'm missing," Natsumi said, turning around in her chair, with one of her legs crossed over the others. "Sasha-kun," she started, speaking playfully as she jumped into the same bed as me, wrapping her arms around my head. "You know what all those pictures lack?" she asked, pointing at her computer screen, while still holding my head in place.

"A good subject?" I asked as I tried to keep my eyes away from her.

"No, silly," she said, playfully again, pushing me down onto my back, and holding me down by the shoulders. "They need a good smile from you," she said, stroking the bottom of my chin. "I never see you smile during the pictures."

"Think on that concept for a minute," I said, disdainfully, as I turned my attention back towards my game. "I know it's your hobby, but it's just not something I'm comfortable with. That's something I've told you many times in the past."

"Yeah, the trick is I don't listen," she said, grabbing my game system, and stretching out too far for me to reach. "Let me take a picture of your smile, and you can have it back," she said, with that ever present sly grin as she walked over to her desk, and pulled out that infamous camera. "I think it's been a while…why not do some pajama shots," she said, pulling out a pair of kid like pajamas she wore probably back when she was even younger than me.

It didn't take long for me to freeze into place out of embarrassment the second she placed her hand on my shoulder. Over the past six years, my sister has seemed to develop a sort of technique in changing me within split seconds. I wouldn't call it a quick change act, but something of the like. Really all she has ever had to do is rip off whatever I'm wearing, and it seems like she's already dressed me.

Doing just that, I was already dressed in her old pajamas, and pushed back down into the bed. The second I landed, no matter which position, I could easily hear the frightening sound of that camera shutter going off. I tried to find an escape route, but in a position where I'm lying down, there isn't much room for quick escape, and any movement could easily be detected by the photographer. Despite that, there was something different in the way she took the pictures; a kind of depressing aura engulfed her, in a way. Like a lot of different habits, it's easy for them to quickly become tiresome or mundane, and from the way that Natsumi let out a sigh, it was obvious to me what was happening to her.

"Why doesn't this make me excited anymore?" she asked, turning around to upload the pictures from her camera onto her desktop. "You've never really changed physically, and that makes it easy to keep this going for years, but something's becoming different when I do this."

"_As I thought,"_ I said to myself, affirming my suspicions. _"She's getting tired of taking these pictures because there's no more rush in them,"_ I said, smiling on the inside, thinking I had finally won against her.

"So, there's only one solution," Natsumi said, standing up from her seat, and reaching into her desk drawer.

"Finally give up on this?" I asked as she paused to look at me surprised, but instantly brought a fist up to her mouth to stifle her chuckling.

"No," she said, holding up a long ribbon and a small toy normally used to entice cats; you know, the kind that have the long, flexible handle, and a small feather at the end. "I said I needed to see a smile on your face. So I'll get one out of you, one way or another," she said with an evil grin on her face, jumping onto the bed with me, and hold my wrists together.

"What are you doing, Nee-chan?" I asked, as she moved my wrists further up the bed, and pushed them through the multiple rods in the headboard, tying the ribbon around them to keep me in place. "I think you're starting to go off the deep end with this," I said, looking forward at Natsumi, almost terrified by the hungry look in her eyes.

"I need to escalate, or it becomes boring," she said, lying down in front of me, lengthwise on the bed. "And now, for that smile," she said, holding up the cat toy, and running it along the soles of my feet.

Fourteen years old for a lot of people is still pretty young, and when you're young, things come relatively easy. In this case, I was ticklish to an extreme, still, not having gained much tolerance for it. This could've been due to any number of things; lack of it happening, having it happening in short bursts, or anything that would've limited time to gain a resistance. All I knew was that the second that cat toy touched the soles of my feet, I began to feel that urge coming over me to just burst out laughing, but I still found myself able to hold back.

"Hmm, you've gotten a bit stronger, have you?" Natsumi asked, giving me the same sly look she always did when it came time for her to escalate her antics even more. "See how you deal with this," she said, lowering her head so they were parallel with my feet, and then letting out a small, cool breath against them.

Tears were beginning to form in my eyes from the sensation, and I was ready to just burst out laughing, but part of me still wanted to fight back. As one of my feet was being tickled, Natsumi kept breathing on the other, making the urge to let myself go all the stronger, which wasn't aided when she lifted up her head, and let her soft hair, run up against my feet. As she looked back at me, she made one final assault, and that was really all that was needed for me to go off, as my laughter filled the room.

"There you go, Sasha-kun," she said playfully, grabbing her camera, and snapping as many pictures as she could, until my laughter subsided. The smile from laughing so hard was still on my face, but as soon as I was able to calm down, I looked up to see her face full of blush. "Ah, that troubled face of yours is even better," she said, pressing the shutter button on her camera even faster.

As promised, though, she returned my game system, and I began putting the finishing touches on my last pokémon. I looked over at Natsumi's computer screen, hoping to find out what she meant by, "my trouble face," and quickly saw what she meant, making the blush on my face, even more apparent. The picture just showed me looking up at her with tears in the corner of my eyes, taking visible deep breaths, and my face completely beet red along my cheeks. I tried to look away so I could finish what I had to before the end of the week, but my eyes couldn't keep themselves from looking towards it as comments are my sister's homepage were added by the second.

"Hmm, it might be dangerous for you to go on that trip of yours, Sasha-kun," Natsumi said, standing up, and walking towards her closet to change.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I could see her pointing a finger from behind her closet door towards the computer. I walked over to the computer, and began scrolling down the page to read just a sampling of the comments. "These seem pretty normal so far," I said, reading several of the posts written, finding them nothing too out of the ordinary when I got to the bottom of the page. "Okay… that's a little more troubling," I said as all the comments towards the bottom of the first page were filled with nothing but double entendres, sexual slurs, and for some, requests of my address.

"I don't want some girl with no standards to have my little brother," Natsumi said, wrapping her arms around me from behind, pressing her cheek to mine. "It may be too dangerous for you to go, so why don't you just stay here?"

"One, they know where you live, and they know I'm you're little brother so if they find you, they find me," I explained. "Two, even if there're people like on the road while I'm at the tournament, it's not like there won't be protection for me. And three, I've lived with you for six years, and you're little hobby, and I've pretty much found a way out of every situation, but have yet to try it. Now can I change out of these now?" I asked as she noticed I was still wearing the pink colored pajamas.

"Aw, but you look so cute in them," she said, resting her chin on top of my head, and throwing me back into the bed I always used when visiting her. "Besides," she said, crawling up the bed to where I was. "You look so sleepy already. You should probably go to sleep right now, and not worry about your clothes," she finished, holding me in another embrace, reaching over to a small control for the electric blanket in the bed.

Unlike most blankets of this kind, the heat actually comes out pretty fast, and if there was one thing that could ever make me more lethargic, it was comfortable heating. For some reason, whenever I was placed in a heat that wasn't sweat inducing, or gave off the possibility of a burn, it sort of just lulled me into that deep sleep. I conceded to my sister, and began to relax into the heat, lazily playing my game, to finish up the last pokémon I had to. The time below on the C-Gear function read that is somewhere past eleven at night, and by the time I had finished the pokémon completely, it was nearing midnight. Natsumi was still doing some of her actual homework at her computer, and the faint glow of the computer, my game, and the heat already completely surrounding me in the covers was beginning to make me fall deeper into my own version of the Dream World. I found the strength to save my game, and put all six members of my tournament party into the Battle Box in the PC, but after turning it off, my arms fell limp, my eyelids became too heavy to use, and the faint vision of my sister disappeared as I fell asleep.

Natsumi turned to me, hearing the relaxed breathing that I gave off, and let out another mischievous chuckle as she grabbed her camera for one last picture for the night. She carefully removed the covers, and placed them at my side, looking at the form of my sleeping body, and just giving the camera small flick of a button push with the picture being taken as soon as it began.

"It may just be my excuse," Natsumi said, putting the newest picture onto her computer after covering me back up. "But I know that you really shouldn't be going to that tournament. I know you'd be able to hold your own, but that's only in the game. What happens if you meet someone that wants to take advantage of you? What happens if a girl decides to take you away from me? What happens…if you forget about me?" she asked, a single tear falling from her eye.

* * *

The rest of the week wasn't filled with anything too special; my sister took the regular batch of pictures, finding new hope in the stuff she had always taken. Any chance I got, I tested out my tournament party in any place I could, and things just seemed to be going all the better for me. That is, until the night before I had to leave.

Natsumi had decided to not take any pictures of me, which was a minor miracle in its self, but something seemed off to me about her personality. Like how it was towards the beginning of the week, she just seemed depressed, watching me play my game for the last time before I would be using it as an official representative from my home country of Russia. She made no efforts to tie me down again, nor did she even talk to me. Whether I had actually done something to make her more distant, I wasn't sure, but for some reason, seeing her like this was probably just as uncomfortable as the times she made dress in her more embarrassing outfits.

"Uh, Nee-chan?" I asked, as she perked up out of surprise, and looked my direction. "Is something bugging you tonight?" I asked as she let out a sigh, and walked towards me. "What are you doing?" I asked as I saw her hold up a long ribbon like she did earlier in the week. "Oh boy…" I said as she instantly went to work, tying my wrists together after sticking them in between the bars of the headboard. "Nee-chan, this is getting to be a little too much, you know," I said as she just laid herself on top of me, instead of going to change my clothes, or even grab her camera.

Before I could say anything, Natsumi placed her head on my chest, and began to breathe a bit softer as though she were relaxing herself. "It's not fair," she said, looking up at me with her eyes full of fatigue. "It's not fair that everyone I send pictures to gets to look at you when you're at your cutest, and I don't," she said, wrapping her arms around me.

"Are you drunk?" I asked as she looked at me slightly offended at my accusation, and simply gave a large exhale out at me. "Yep, you're drunk," I said, tying to struggle free from the ribbon, only to feel Natsumi reach for my shirt. "Oh, I don't like where this is going."

As she undid the top few buttons of my shirt, Natsumi just continued to stare down at my chest with both a tired and hungry look in her eyes. She began letting out a slow, cool breath against my neck, and rubbed her hands over my chest making me cringe out of near terror at what she was doing. Before I could do anything else, however, I felt her fall down, with her chest pushing up against my own, and her cheek against mine. Her arms had snaked their way around my head, and I could feel the easy breathing she let out against my cheek and ear. I let out a sigh of relief after confirming she was asleep, and turned my attention to my wrists. As though she could feel me struggle, however, Natsumi reached for the blankets, and pulled them over the two of us, and reached for the electric blanket controls.

"_Why me?"_ I asked as the heat from the blanket rapidly came up against me, and the added comfort that my sister offered, quickly lulled me to sleep in her embrace.

* * *

I woke up the next morning, still up against Natsumi who was still sleeping, and her breath against my face. I guess she woke up during the night by the fact that her legs were now wrapped around mine, and the ribbon's knot had been retied. I began rotating my wrists to try and ease the knot loose when I felt Natsumi stir in her sleep, about to wake up. Freezing for just a second, to make sure she wouldn't wake up, I felt her breath against my cheek again, indicating she was asleep, giving me the chance to try and loosen the knot.

"_Relax, Sasha,"_ I said to myself. _"This is a lot like what happened in the game. The character is kidnapped by the mainstream villain team, and has to find a way out. A fighting type trainer isn't known for being very dexterous, and chances are neither am I. However, the idea behind the games was that it was supposed to be harder for you to figure out. The majority of the trainers in that game were flying and psychic based with a few bug types for longer battles, and the villain team was no different. Made my Scrafty a near necessity. But if I'm right about this kind of knot, if I just thread this part hear through the loop," _I said, following my own directions. "It should just come straight out," I said aloud, rousing Natsumi from her sleep, and seeing my hands free from her binds.

"Hmm," she said as I froze in place, while sitting up, feeling Natsumi's arms slither across my back and around my neck, pressing her cheek to mine, and blowing into my ear. "You thought you could run away?" she asked, pulling me back down to the covers, and holding me down. "I don't know how, Sasha-kun, but you always find a way to make yourself cuter."

"Not exactly a skill I want to perfect," I said as both of us could hear a fast knock at the door to her dorm room. "If you're from social services, she's the one you want!" I shouted as Natsumi giggled at me, and walked over to the door, inquiring who was behind it.

"I'm here to find an Alexander Takebana," a female voice said from behind it.

"Okay, so who are you?" Natsumi asked cautiously. "If you're here to do anything to my little brother, I swear that you won't even get inside to see his face."

"Relax, Nee-chan," I said walking to the door, and opening it despite her protest. "She's just a person from the tournament," I explained, walking back to my bed, to grab my suitcase, game, and a large light blue coat.

* * *

Natsumi welcomed the stranger in, but still kept her eyes on her with a sense of distrust. From anyone's point of view, she was around my age, fourteen, and even shorter than myself, but at the same time, there was no question she was a specific gender. I had recognized her from an email the Pokémon Company sent me about my contact in Hokkaido, and everything about her was the same. Her hair was light silver color, mostly likely artificially colored, reaching down to a similar point like Natsumi's. Her skin was a pale color, almost accented by the fact her hair was that light of a color, and her eyes were a light green color. As one could guess, because of her age and height, she was fairly small in her body type, nowhere near where Natsumi had been since about her last few years of high school. Her wardrobe was nothing too extravagant, nothing more than a dark blue sweater, with the ends of a pink shirt's sleeves visible underneath, a pair of dark brown cargo pants, and a matching pair of regular tennis shoes of the same color.

* * *

"So, I'll ask you one more time," Natsumi said, pulling me closer to her as though to protect me. "Who are you?"

"Naoko Kato!" she said, in the same playful manner that Natsumi always spoke in when she was getting ready to do something truly evil to me. "And if I ever do something to your brother, it'll be because he'd want it!" she said, probably not realizing the words coming out of her mouth, as the both of us froze in place.

"She's just here to take me to the airport," I explained as I extended the handle on my suitcase, and rolled it across the floor. "If that's all…" I said before being cut off by Natsumi pulling me back to her again.

"I still don't trust her," she said as Naoko looked at the two of us curiously, making note of how close she was holding me. "You sure she's not going to try anything to you. Maybe she's seen the pictures."

"You mean the one's of him being cross dressed?" she asked as my face went beet red, as did Natsumi's. "I've seen 'em. He looks so cute when you do that!" she said as she inched extremely close to both of us, and studied my body from head to toe. "Are you really a boy?" she asked, poking me forehead, and moving it down my body.

"I assure you, I'm male," I said, before she could get any lower to the definitive proof, if you know what I mean. "Are you convinced now, Nee-chan?" I asked as Natsumi still held onto me possessively, making Naoko still confused by the close proximity she was keeping.

"Are you two going out?" she asked as my expression snapped, and Natsumi's went into a state of blush almost instantaneously.

"We're siblings!" I said, trying to make Naoko understand, but I was sure that her mind was running rampant by this point.

"You're brother and sister?" she asked as we both nodded. "Then that means…" she said, as her face erupted into a deep red color. "Every night you two…" she began saying, thinking about the relationship we had.

"If you're thinking about anything rated above PG-13, I think that it's best we get going before she gets any ideas," I said, wheeling my bag out of the room with Natsumi and Naoko following after me.

* * *

While in the cab, I was placed in between both girls as Natsumi watched Naoko suspiciously still, and Naoko just kept looking at the two of us, and then noticed the impressions in my wrist from the ribbon. She then imagine me tied to a bed, and Natsumi laying herself down on top of me, cradling my head in her hands, resulting in her head producing a small puff of smoke from all the blush that came upon her.

"_That head of hers wanders more than a lost dog in a labyrinth,"_ I said, knowing full well what she was thinking about. _"Hopefully she battles better than she thinks up those weird fantasies."_

As the cab pulled into the airport, I could feel the tension growing in Natsumi, out of frustration for me leaving, and the pressure and fear growing on Naoko from said tension, and frustration. As the three of us piled out of the car, I felt like I was in the middle of an impending bloodbath, between Natsumi's over protectiveness and Naoko's, for want of a better term, obliviousness of the situation. Before we entered the departure area, I could instantly feel my sister's mode change from tension to depression as it would've been the first time she had ever been without me for a period of longer than a month. Even after Naoko had entered the main gate for our plane, I found myself unable to move forward without reassuring my sister at all.

"I will be back," I said, not bearing to look back at her so that she couldn't see my single tear falling from my eye. "That's my promise as your family, and to the family that is survived by me and my father," I said, holding my crucifix necklace to my mouth.

"You better," she said, fighting back her own tears. "I'll have a bunch more outfits for you to wear when you do."

"I'll be sure to take the scenic route home," I said, almost running through the gate to meet up with Naoko, who led me to where the plane that was taking us was.

* * *

Walking through the rest of the airport to the waiting area, I stayed relatively silent as Naoko seemed to be acting as my tour guide to just about everything in the interior of the building. I could tell she was a local of Hokkaido mostly from that, and that she probably hadn't lived many other places in her life. That may have been my own way of stereotyping her, but from what I saw of her, she didn't really have much knowledge of international geography, nor did she know much about some of the places the tournament was going to take us. When we reached our waiting area, we both sat down at the same time, and I couldn't help but feel as though I should have said more about my current relationship with my sister to Naoko, based on how many misconceptions she had probably already made.

"Hey, Sasha-kun," she said, bending over to look at me from a horizontal angle. "Where do you actually come from? Your first name isn't Japanese."

"No, you're right," I admitted, deciding to keep a lively conversation. "I'm one third Japanese, a third Russian, and a third Greek," I explained. "My last name is Japanese, my first name is Russian, and there's not a lot to do with my Grecian roots."

"So is your dad Japanese?" she asked.

"No, it's my mother," I corrected. "She's pretty high up in society, so it was more beneficial to my dad to take her name rather than the other way around. My dad's where my European roots come from, and everything Japanese is from my mother. Natsumi-nee is completely Japanese, but her dad wanted a son, so my mother left him before things got too dangerous between them."

"You don't hold back, do you?" she asked, holding her head up with her hands. "My parents aren't exactly giving me their full blessing with this tournament. They think I should be focused more on my studies rather than my hobbies, but I do it anyway. What do your parents think?"

"You know, I'd actually be surprised if they actually did know about me being in this tournament," I answered vaguely. "I won't say they're bad parents, but part of me thinks they could spend a little more time with their kids. They like to travel a lot, and that means dumping me with my sister, and that's when things kinda start to get like they were when you walked in."

"And when she takes those really good pictures of you?" she asked, running her fingers through my hair. "Hmm, it's as soft as it looks," she said, as blush was beginning to overtake my face. "Which side do you get this from?" she asked, holding up a few strands of my hair.

"The color is from my dad," I answered. "The texture is my mother's, along with about ninety percent of the rest of my physical appearance. Gives Natsumi the best of both worlds; a little brother that she can take care of, and a little sister that she can take pictures of to her heart's content. What about yours?"

"Oh, I dyed it this color," she said, not surprising me. "I'm a little bit of a fanatic about a lot of things, and when the reps from the Pokémon Company told me that I would be using the steel element, I just figured it'd be fun to do this."

"And you think I'm weird," I said quietly. "Hey, I think they're ready to board now," I said, noticing both the notice on the intercom, and the large mass of people crowding the gate, despite the gate agent's plea for them to back away.

To be quite honest, I wasn't expecting to fly first class all the way to Paris, where the first part of the competition was supposed to be taking place, but nevertheless, it seemed as though the seats in the first class section of the plane were like large thrones. Making me feel all the less comfortable as I sat down, Naoko sat directly next to me, and began obsessing over every small detail she could find. Whether it was the fact that the seats reclined backwards, or the idea of the vibration massager in the seats, it didn't make much different to Naoko what it was and it just seemed to enthrall her all the more.

"So, what's the first stop?" I asked as Naoko broke out of her amazement, and began reading through a large brochure probably given to her from the Pokémon reps as a small itinerary.

"Umm, says here, we're meeting up with a Brett Kuso and Akiraka Kizuna in Tokyo before we head off to Moscow Airport, and then to Paris," she said, reading the captions word for word. "Wonder what they're like."

"_If there is a God, they won't be like you,"_ I said, making sure to keep my expression straight, so as not to let on my thoughts.

* * *

Flying from Hokkaido to Tokyo isn't meant to be a long flight, and obviously this was no exception. The flight took a total of maybe an hour and a half, which may be on the longer side of the spectrum, but nevertheless, it was probably the first plane ride that was ever smooth for me. Granted mine was always a trip straight back to Moscow, and that normally entails getting some form of turbulence when we go over Siberia, but I digress. I'll say this though, neither myself, nor Naoko were quite sure what to expect, heading into the airport at Tokyo.

To put it mildly, the airport was like a trip to the zoo, complete with animals, which isn't exactly a lie. Whether they were transporting dogs, cats, or chimpanzees is anybody's guess, but the smell sure made it clear that they weren't housebroken. Moving past that, Naoko and I entered the airport lounge, and tried to figure out some plan to find this Brett and Akiraka. Unfortunately, the Pokémon Company wasn't exactly too clear as to what the two looked like, where we would be meeting them, or anything else that might've helped us find them.

"By the time we find them in this place, the tournament may be over," I said, disdainfully as the disgruntled shouts of a person, probably a few years older than us rang out from the center of the airport. "On second thought…"

As we walked towards the sounds of whosever shouts they were, the spot where they came from became more apparent by the large crowd amassed around two young men, one holding himself up with his hands, and knees. The other, looking down at him, his eyes condescending, and the right with a long scar down the center. My guess was that one of them was Brett, given Akiraka was definitely a girl's name, and my suspicions were laid one only one of them.

* * *

As said before, his eyes were the kind that you would see on a soldier in battle. But these weren't the kind of fear, or longing, but of bloodlust, desiring the battle to come to them, or they would find it themselves. The scar down the center of his right eye didn't discolor it from its original shade of light brown, but certainly did give him the imposing look needed to be a winner in this world. He stood much taller than either of us, by a near full foot, and anyone could tell he was much stronger than either of us. His hair was a midnight black color, spiking downward along his face, enhancing the sharp look he gave at both of us. His wardrobe was simple; merely a blue hooded sweatshirt, with the neck line of a red shirt underneath, a pair of jeans with two zippers along the sides, a pair of red and blue sneaker, and a red and white baseball cap.

* * *

"I take it you came to find me," he said, still keeping a generally annoyed look, but a much sedated expression in his eyes. "If that's the case, then you must be the other two Japanese reps, Naoko and Akiraka. I'll assume you know who I am, and therefore save myself the time it would take to introduce myself."

"Durak," I said under my breath in Russian, translating to idiot. "Weren't you ever taught to never assume?" I asked as Brett turned around to face me, and kept the same look on his face.

"Prove to me I'm wrong," he said, challengingly.

"Menya zobut Alexander Takebana," I said, in a much deeper, Russian tone. "Ya russkiy," I introduced.

"So I guess it's true what they were saying," Brett said, made a small smirk that quickly dimmed. "They were allowing a kid from Russia to join in on the tournament. So, you're the famous Alexander Takebana, or was it Sasha?"

"I prefer Sasha," I said, not exactly afraid of his condescension.

"Well, then, _Sasha_," he said, disdainfully. "What do you say we have ourselves a little practice bout until the final slowpoke gets here? These wimps weren't able to satisfy me, so how about my future victim?" he said, none of his previous opponents brave enough to speak up.

"Fine," I said, walking up to a small computer terminal.

In preparation for this tournament, the Pokémon Company put up a lot of different small computer terminals in public areas that were a kind of beta version of the actual simulators we would be using when it came to the tournament. The hardware is fairly simple to use, simply place your gaming system on the tray in the center, and depending on your model, and attach the corresponding cable into the jack. After which, the pokémon game will have its data transferred from the Battle Box, and begin a battle based on your preferred settings. The commands, however, are voice activated, and the movements of the pokémon used are meant to seem as though it were more of a realistic battle.

As Brett and I plugged in our game systems, everyone in the immediate area noticed both of our eyes had become entirely blank, and devoid of any feeling in them. The screen in the front of the terminal lit up, and showed no trainers, but rather simply lit up to show six pokéballs, lined in two rows of three, and a text box underneath, asking, "Which Battle Mode?" and gave us the options of single, double, tag team, triple, rotation, and full. Based on the action selected, you would choose a certain number of pokémon; single would have three, double would be two, tag team implies there are two players, so each would choose two, triple and rotation each use two full teams, so that's where you have six, along with the full battle function.

"Single," Brett said, with no hesitation in his voice, into the small microphone. The screen blanked out, and returned with a full listing of my pokémon, all with numbers next to their names. "Four, six, and three," he said, as a timer at the bottom of my screen game me a time limit to select my pokémon.

"Odin, dva, tri," I said calmly, as the first three of my pokémon were illuminated, and the screen instantly changed the language on the screen to Russian. "Spasibo," I said, thanking the computer for having my language on file, despite the pokémon series not being as big a hit in Russia.

The screen came back up, and two pokéballs were thrown from the center of our screen revealing our first two pokémon; my Conkeldurr, named Sigma, and from him, a Gyarados. I was enthralled by the realism in the pokémon's movements, as they didn't make the superfluous sprite movements, and instead almost seemed to be intelligent themselves. A large banner style slogan rolled across the front of the screen, with the words, "BEGIN BATTLE," followed by a large blow horn.

"_Hmm, Conkeldurr, huh?"_ Brett questioned. _"At least there's no ambiguity in the element he uses. The problem is, though, this kid doesn't have the same feeling he does as the last batch of players did. It almost seems as though he has more confidence in himself without the battle actually beginning. No matter, unlike him, I still have the element of surprise as to what kind of pokémon I actually use. This poor sap probably won't even get passed this one."_

"_Gyarados is a part water and flying type,"_ I said to myself, reminding of all the specs of the sea serpent. _"There are a lot of people who would flying types, and use this as a loophole to have a more water based pokémon on their teams for rock types. At the same time, it could turn into a paradox. Knowing that I know of the loophole, would put me on edge if I thought he was using flying types, when in fact he could be using water types. But at the same time, he could be thinking that because I'm thinking that, then he could still be using flying types, thinking that if I were to be put at ease with the knowledge that he were trying to trick me into thinking he used water types, but in reality he still uses flying types, and the cycle just continues on forever. The fact remains, however, that he does feel more cautious about me than he probably did with the other players he's beaten. He should be thinking that if I were a serious competitor that removing the weaknesses of my elements would be a top priority."_

"Gyarados, Aqua Tail," Brett said into the mic, with Gyarados letting out a huge roar in the simulation, and charging at my pokémon with its tail engulfed in a furious current of water.

The crash from the attack as it struck Sigma was more realistic than I imagined, as Sigma began to lose its health, ending with the bar as around half full. I let out a sigh of relief at seeing him not get as hurt so much, but knew that things had to turn around for me, if I wanted to prove to this guy what I was capable of. I looked up from staring at my shoes, to the screen to see the faint sight of what looked like shattering glass, which gave me a small amount of confidence.

"Sigma…Stone Edge," I commanded calmly with Brett widening his eyes out of surprise, seeing the two concrete towers in its hands being pushed onto the ground, kicking up a large amount of stones that began to continually batter Gyarados until, it too, had its health depleted to about the half way mark, if not a little lower. "With no STAB, it's not exactly possible to use the attack of another as effectively as it would if it were used by another that could get the STAB. But there are other ways around it," I said, cryptically as Sigma's body was instantly engulfed in a small flame, generally around his joints, and a crimson orb floating overhead.

"Flame Orb, am I right?" Brett asked as I nodded, and looked back down at my screen ready to make my next attack.

"Gyarados, Hyper Beam!" Brett shouted into the microphone, almost as though he were afraid of my beating his pokémon. "That Water Gem only lasted for one turn, and Aqua Tail isn't going to be enough to take him down."

"But it would've been more effective than a Hyper Beam," I said, noting the amount of HP that Sigma had left as being closer to the final quarter of HP, rather than what Brett was probably hoping for. "You have an interesting build for you Gyarados. Having a mixed attacker build isn't what most people would recommend, because of Gyarados limited special attack power as opposed to his astronomical attack stat. But maybe that's why you were chosen for the placement in this tournament."

"Say what?" he asked.

"You see past the stats of a pokémon, and instead do what you feel is best," I said, bringing the mic to my mouth. "Sigma, finish him off quickly, Façade if you will," I said, as my pokémon's body began alternating in colors of red and blue before making a quick charge at my opponent's Gyarados.

Upon impact, all the eyes around us went straight to Brett as his pokémon's HP gauge depleted to zero, and returned to a small pokéball, seeing his eyes widen out of shock. I've been known as a person who can't tell a whole lot about emotions, but what I could feel was a feeling of realization coming from Brett. It wasn't as if he was in shock over losing his pokémon, but rather, put into a state of perspective. He made a large breath outward, and seemed to accept the loss as it came, lifting the corners of his mouth in a satisfied grin.

"Perfect," he said, making much of the people around us, Naoko included, recoil back out of surprised. "Somebody who can actually use a pokémon the way they're supposed to be. That burn is intentional, isn't it?"

"An intentional burn?" Naoko questioned as she saw me give a small smile of affirmation. "How can something bad be used for your own gain?"

"Actually there are a lot of ways," a female voice said from behind, walking up to the crowd, most likely enthralled by the development at the terminal. "But for Conkeldurr, its secondary ability, Guts, will raise a pokémon's power by fifty percent when inflicted with a special condition. At the same time, Façade is an attack that gains power in the same way. Essentially, Façade was at twice its strength when used against Gyarados."

* * *

Naoko, Brett, and I all turned to face the newcomer, and put the dots together pretty quickly, identifying her as the one named Akiraka Kizuna. If you were to line me, Brett, and Naoko up, she would be between me and Brett in terms of height, around five and a half feet. In terms of appearance, she was pretty normal, not being overly or under developed, and her build suggested she was more athletic than the other female competitor. Her hair was a light brown color, that probably would have reached past her shoulder if let out of the ponytail she tied it up in. Her bangs reached just above her eyes, which were an auburn color that showed off a fairly relaxed attitude. In terms of the immediate area, her wardrobe was probably the most complex, which isn't saying much; consisting of a black windbreaker, with a small symbol in the corner of a small anchor, a dark green and brown colored t-shirt underneath, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of blackish brown combat boots.

* * *

"Ah, Akiraka-chan, I presume?" Naoko asked, extending her hand.

"I prefer Aspen," she said, accepting the handshake. "And you three must be Naoko-chan, Brett, and, I'm sorry but I don't know any of the other female competitors," she said, as my expression snapped into slight frustration.

"_She's_ a guy, Aspen-chan," Naoko said, making Akiraka look at me from head to toe, trying to find some way to prove my being a male. "Hey, Sasha-kun, why don't you speak in Russian? You're voice was pretty deep then."

"Nah, I'll be fine," I said, recomposing myself, but still showing a bit of disappointment that nobody could recognize me as a guy. "At any rate, we do have something to finish here, Brett."

"'Finish'?" Brett asked, as the annoyance in his voice left, and was now replaced by what almost sounded like frustration. "Sorry, kid, but we've barely begun!" he said loudly. "Pokémon number three, send out," he said into the mic, as the pokéball shot across the screen, and opened in midair, revealing his next pokémon, a male Quagsire. "Quagsire, Muddy Water!" he said, as though the battle was happening right in front of him in reality.

"Sigma," I said, still fairly calm even in this situation. "As my final request of you in this battle, Mach Punch," I commanded, Sigma racing across the screen with his right arm curled back, and the flames from his burn making it appear as though they were from its speed. "Fifty percent increase by the STAB, and another fifty percent increase from Guts," I said aloud, as the attack impacted with the Quagsire, only downgrading its HP to the borderline of the yellow zone.

Quagsire, even from its cringing in the simulation broke away from the attack, and slapped its tail on the ground, summoning a large wave of debris filled water, swallowing Sigma in its simulated vortex. Not having very much HP left, Sigma was down all too easily, and I was completely aware, but for some reason, beating just my Conkeldurr wasn't enough to quell the anger currently racing around Brett's mind.

"Pokémon, nomer dva, pozhaluysta," I said, as the computer acknowledged my request, sending out the next pokéball across the screen, as it did for Brett, and opened again in midair, the large form of my next fighting type, Hariyama. "You're up, Alpha. Let's get started, Force Palm!" I shouted into the speaker, beginning to find my own joy in pretending that this was real.

"Humph, Quagsire, Muddy Water," Brett said, beginning to calm his rage, but even I could tell it was still present.

Given that both of our pokémon were much bulkier in builds, it was hard to tell exactly who was going to attack first. Whether it is a Hariyama or a Quagsire was anyone's guess, but nonetheless, I could see both Naoko and Akiraka, or Aspen, watching the battle screen up top with anticipation, seeing Alpha, my Hariyama, force Brett's Quagsire back with one push of its large palm. Brett watched Quagsire's health deplete, closer into the yellow zone, but not enough to call it defeated. He smirked as he watched his Quagsire lift up its tail again, but instantly froze as did Quagsire's tail, making it impossible for him to attack.

"There's only a thirty percent chance of that happening," Brett said, already seeing that my Force Palm had paralyzed his pokémon. "What kind of luck is this?"

"I guess good luck for me," I said, noting the small item indicator above Alpha's head, with a single claw disappearing quickly from view. "What happened just now was a one in thirty chance occurrence. A Quick Claw taking effect and then having the move's secondary effect take place isn't something that happens to a person every day."

"_Why is this kid so irritating?"_ Brett asked, allowing his rage to fill his heart once more. _"Random chances, strong attacks being pulled off, and worse yet, it seems that everything is just going his way!"_ he shouted in his mind, looking at me straight on, and then suddenly see a flash in front of him with a mirror image of himself without the scar over his eye, appearing in front of him. _"What!? No, this is my time to shine, and no longer your spotlight! I won't let you surpass me again!" _he shouted again, and again in his head. "Pokémon number six!" he said as the computer defaulted into sending out his last pokémon, revealed to be a Samurott.

In my opinion, Samurott was an interesting pokémon, to say the least, and was actually fairly formidable on the battlefield. But then again, to a lot of people, I'm just a naïve kid with the same amount of experience and brain power as a brand new stepladder. I could tell many of the people around us were talking like Brett wasn't sure what he was doing, and that it would have been better for him to use his Gyarados for later against a pokémon like Hariyama. However, Naoko and Akiraka were skeptical of Samurott's true power. The pokémon games we were playing with had been given to us only about two months ago, and sure, that's plenty of time to get together a team of tournament worthy pokémon, so why use one of the starter pokémon?

"_Samurott has decent stats all around, with only a few of its stats being higher than the others,"_ I reminded myself, looking at how earnestly Brett stared at his pokémon. _"But something about the way that Brett stares at that pokémon makes me feel all the more worried that there is something behind his feelings for using it."_

"He won't be my summit," Brett said, very cryptically, making any of us confused by what he meant by "summit." "I will show him that there is something in me that makes me stronger, and better than him. Samurott, Razor Shell!" he commanded, with the water type producing his blade attached to the left hind leg.

"Alpha, Bulk-up," I said, trying to keep myself calm, but found my stomach begin to sink in feeling. "Something's different about him, now."

"People are rules by their emotions," Akiraka said, fairly bluntly as Brett just shifted his eye to the side, whereas I completely turned my head. "Whether it is by fear, anger, love, or happiness, the power of a person's emotions will rule who they are, what they were, and how they will shape themselves in the future."

"I'm lost," Naoko said, trying to make sense of it, with her head spinning in circles.

"Any person's actions are controlled directly by the emotions that are most powerful within them in a time of stress," I explained in more detail, seeing the attack from Samurott connect with my Hariyama out of the corner of my eye, and Alpha taking a deep breath in, instantly raising both attack and defense. "Whatever controls Brett is so much stronger that it puts others into a state of fear, and that's what makes him powerful."

"And yet, you seem to have all the answers, boy," Brett said, waiting for me to turn my attention back to the battle. "People aren't controlled by emotions, but by their pasts. A past where you're never seen in the spotlight because somebody is always better than you is what mine is. And that past has turned me into this proud fighter. What have you endured that makes you so calm about everything?"

"It has nothing to with my past," I said. "I see this as just a game. Something to do for fun, and yet, is necessary for me to be who I truly am, and not ashamed of who I could've been. Alpha, Force Palm!" I shouted into the speaker as Alpha charged towards Samurott with its palm outstretched.

"Game over," Brett said ominously. "Samurott, Razor Shell," he said, as the second of Samurott's swords was drawn, and slashed against Alpha's body. Despite having Bulk-Up used to increase defense, Alpha's HP had already entered the yellow area before, and for some reason, it seemed that the attack from before did as much damage as it had now, slowly defeating my most defensive pokémon. "Razor Shell offers a coin flip ability, where if luck is on my side, your defense stat is lowered."

"So even with the Bulk-Up, Hariyama's defense stat was back to what it was originally," Naoko deduced. "Now it's back to an even match."

"We'll see about that," Brett said, skeptical of Naoko's words, seeing me in near shock at how powerful Brett really was. _"I may not have lied about not knowing too much about this kid, but I do know one thing. At the regional championship he was undefeated with a single pokémon beginning after the final round until the semi final rounds when he was narrowly defeated. Supposedly, at the tournament, he was different than anyone else had ever seen him act. Describing him as a pokémon tyrant, the newsletters on the pokémon website fed on this like frenzy. They said, it happened in the first round in the Moscow tournament," _he began narrating as though the scene were right in front of him. _"He was down to one pokémon in the first round; his opponent was still left with his final two, and when this pokémon came out, undisclosed to the public, everything changed about this kid. It was if he was a different person. He called himself…"_

"Ah, what a troublesome body this is," I said, much more confident in myself than I had when Alpha was lost. "Unable to take the pressure of a simple video game is simply pathetic. No wonder Natsumi-nee uses this for her enjoyment," I said, not acting like myself, as I ran my hands down my body. "My apologies for my earlier weakness," I said to Brett. "But now is the time for the true power to step onto the stage. Gamma, the Czar calls for you," I said, as the computer defaulted to send out my last pokémon, a male Gallade named Gamma.

"Another Greek letter for a name," Naoko said, hitting her fist into her other open hand out of realization. "So that's where he makes use of his Greek heritage. But what does he mean by Czar?"

"A title where I don't have to worry about how people see me, in terms of my gender," I said, as I watched Gamma holds its arms out like they were real swords. "A title that was given to either the male or female ruler of my country. They were known by the names they were given, the titles that came after their names, but always known by their people as the Czars."

"Then allow me to crown you, your highness," Brett said, holding the microphone steady in his hand. "Samurott, Razor Shell. Send him where the rest of them are!" he commanded as I just gave a haughty smirk, and flicked my fingers forward.

"Gamma, he protests the rule of my hand," I said, making the Gallade standing at a ready position with Samurott charging him with both blades drawn. "The rebellious must be destroyed, Psycho Cut!" I said holding out my hand as Gamma followed my orders, immediately, holding its arm blade as though it were still sheathed.

"What is that, iaido?" Akiraka asked as Gamma made the straight, true shot of psychic power towards Samurott, not giving it any chance to fight back.

As the blast struck Samurott, Brett looked slightly relieved it to see it still conscience, but was quickly met with a quickening steady beep, noticing the slow way that the HP meter kept depleting. Everybody was in disbelief as the HP meter hit zero, and below the caption read, "It's a critical hit!" Seeing his final pokémon being returned made Brett fall silent, and in shock, making him look up as though he were about to speak, but noticed a small sliver of health missing from Gamma, and a small pink orb over its head.

"He got the better of me," Brett said, quietly in realization. "He took an extreme gamble; banking on the Psycho Cut to have a critical hit, and then hoping that my attack, in the chance he was slower, wouldn't be powerful enough to put him into a state where the Life Orb would've defeated him. STAB, plus critical hit, plus Life Orb, equal me being played for a sucker in this battle. Sasha," he said, finally acknowledging my name. "I take back what I said about you, and understand you are worthy of my respect. But know that it means I'll only be that much more diligent to defeat you next time."

"I look forward to it," I said, still confident, and in, what could be called my "Czar"-mode.

"Just one question," Brett said. "Which of the Czars are you connected to?" he asked, confusing me. "There's no way that a persona like this comes out of simply being interested in history. You're related to one of the more prominent Czars, aren't you?"

"You know much despite not wanting to show it," I said, unplugging my game from the jack. "His name was not always translated correctly, and instead was meant to mean 'formidable,'" I began, Brett putting the dots together fairly quickly. "He deserves the name of 'grozniy' many times over. In my family tree, from the side of my father, this Alexander Pavilovich Takebana, is related to the man once known as Ivan Vasilyevich, but now known only as Ivan the Terrible."

"Wait, you're related to royalty?" Akiraka asked. "Didn't see that coming."

"The Czars no longer have any power in Russia," I said, beginning to calm back down into my regular state. "They're all but extinct in name only. Like I said, there are always people who have that kind of ancient history to them. Mine is just simply more memorable."

"Does that mean, whoever marries you will get to be a Russian princess," Naoko asked with her face full of blush.

"…No," I said plainly. "Anyway, we should probably get on the next flight to Moscow, so we can get to the tournament."

"Yeah, we have to meet our teammates when we get there anyway," Akiraka said, confusing all three of us. "Didn't you know the first tournament as part of this will be a Tag-Team Tournament?" she asked as the thought of working with somebody began to make me feel sick to my stomach.

"_Onee-chan, you may have been right,"_ I said to myself as I walked, slightly more depressed with the idea of working together. _"There are a lot of weird people here that may want to take advantage of me. But in the end, I've already met three people who are all unique in their own way. But will this really help to suppress the Czar? You told me that stress will only succeed in bringing him out, and that only the end of a conflict can force him back in. The conflict in my head at that time when I was eight was calmed only when you held me to keep me warm. Will there ever be another person for me that could help with you I am, and who I could've been?"_ I asked, holding the crucifix around my neck back to my mouth. _"Please, Lord, don't let this be in vain. If there is anything that you can do to help me figure out whom the Czar in me is, then please, help me."_

* * *

Cast:

Alexander "Sasha" Takebana (Fighting): Gallade (Gamma), Conkeldurr (Sigma), Hariyama (Alpha), other pokémon, TBA. NightFall00

Naoko Kato (Steel): pokémon TBA. Cyanide the Sneasel

Brett Kuso (Water): Samurott, Gyarados, Quagsire, other pokémon TBA. AshKetchumDarkSide

Akiraka "Aspen" Kizuna (Unannounced, Rock): pokémon TBA. Crossroader92

* * *

Notes:

Honorifics: As we all know, from watching anime in Japanese raw, honorifics are a central part of the Japanese language. Now there are two types of meanings behind that word; one is a form of speech, and the other in simply adding the title of a person afterwards. Common Japanese honorifics are "-san" (Mr., Mrs., Ms., et cetera), "-kun" (used for younger, or similarly aged males), "-chan" (used for younger girls, familiar faces, close friends, intimates), "-sama" (used for people of much higher social status or respect), and "-senpai" (which indicates an upper classmen). "Chan" is the only one where it may require the use of a pet-name (in Akiraka's case, if her nickname were "Aki" she could be "Aki-chan").

Russian Grammar: You can all let out the moan of boredom, but this is the biggest part of any language. In a lot of languages based from Latin, or Romance Languages, matching the apparent gender of a noun is an integral part of the language. When Natsumi introduces herself to Sasha, she has to match the gender of her adjectives, personal, and possessive pronoun to the gender of the word cectra, or sister.

Ivan the Terrible: Holding the position of czar for nearly thirty four years, Ivan Vasilyevich was known by the name Ivan Grozniy. Today we use this as a name for Ivan the Terrible, but in fact is actually more closely translated to "threatening," "formidable," or "fearsome." The terrible part does come into play that he was often noted for having violent fits of rage, despite a very devout person. Does this mean that Sasha will eventually let his anger towards Natsumi get to him, or will he just pass it off along with everything else?

* * *

Chapter one complete. My…fingers…hurt! This is by far the longest chapter I have ever done, and I think I know why. I wanted to do more about the relationship between Sasha and Natsumi, since it would be a while before we saw her again, and then I had to introduce the three Japanese reps, and I wanted to show you how the battle system would work, so, all in all, not bad, huh? So, before I write the next chapter, I'm going to be doing boy-girl pairs for the Tag-Team competition in Paris, and that will all be done randomly, just like how you're elements were chosen randomly.


	3. Partner

Well, as promised, VGC is my main focus for Winter Break, and I'll be back in school close to the beginning of the year. My time for writing will become somewhat limited as I'm gonna have to start finding a job on campus to help pay for college, and stuff. But for now, in between working on stuff before I go back to college, I have more time to write than anything, so I may as well get this story going strong so that you all have something to read from me that I think has worked out well so far. So, as I said last time in the ending notes, I'm pairing everybody up for the Tag Team Tournament part of this story in Paris. In the chapter, you'll learn who your teammate is, and then we'll see how the teamwork will go. Anyway, without further ado, here is my new chapter for VGC: Tournament of Champions.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Partner

Have you ever heard the old saying, "everything is connected?" That may be a dumbed-down version of it, but I digress. In a lot of literature, normally mystery novels, things generally tie together in the conclusion, so there are no loose ends. This is because it's basic human nature to want to make everything more complicated than it really is; also, the idea that everything is connected to something is already universal, so pointing it out, which a lot of people tend to do, is redundant. But then again, a lot of people don't just like to know _that_ things are connected, they want to know _how_ they are connected, and to what. Often times, the people that are able to make the best connections are those with the broad minds to go over every possible outcome, input, or even just crazy thought. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people.

* * *

The plan ride to Moscow was much like how a lot of my rides had been in the past…bad. I wasn't sure if it was the turbulence going over Siberia (told you it would happen), or if it was the extra three people flying with me. First, there was Naoko Kato, a fourteen year old representative from Japan, and, from what I've observed, a person who used to be used for caffeine injection experiments. Second, was Akiraka Kizuna, who insisted on the name Aspen, instead, which still had me puzzled. There really wasn't much to say about her, seeing as she had just showed up half way through the battle with the third and final representative from Japan. Brett Kuso was the oldest out of us, the strongest, the tallest, and the most irritable. Whether it was because he lost to me when we met in Tokyo, or if it was just his normal sunny disposition (big time sarcasm) was anyone's guess. He insisted on sitting away from the group, not that I minded, but whenever I looked out my window, I could always see him on a laptop from the reflection in the glass. What can I say? I'm naturally inquisitive.

I'll say this, being back in Moscow, two weeks ahead of when I was supposed to be back made me feel like I had beaten Natsumi definitively…until I had to go back after the tournament. Thinking about her going on a rampage after a two month absence made me feel as though I would never be able to leave her college dorm. Back on the subject at hand, though, the city did give me back a nostalgic feeling, as I looked out at one of the larger buildings with the signature, onion shaped dome. The golden color shining in the sunlight it bathed in amidst the snow that had just begun to fall when we had entered. I walked back to receptionist counter, asking about the current flight predicament given the amount of snow beginning to fall, and the news I was given didn't surprise, nor thrill me.

"We have to stay the night," I said, as the three Japanese reps looked at me, surprise filling their eyes. "The snow's beginning to come down too hard, and one of the flights that came in after us had a bit of trouble coming in, so they're delaying the flights for the night to see how the weather will look tomorrow."

"Well, no harm done, I suppose," Akiraka said, grabbing her bag, and walking to one of the seats for the guests. "If we're stuck here for the rest of the night, we may as well find a place to stay, and take a look around the city. I hear the cathedrals here are amazing."

"Count me out," Brett said, laying himself down on one of the couches in the airport, and placing his arm over his eyes. "I'll go with you guys as far as to the hotel, but after that, you're on your own."

"Well then, let's go!" Naoko said excitedly, beginning to walk towards the door, but finding none of us falling after her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"You have money for a place to stay?" I asked, the sudden realization pretty much crushing Naoko, making me sigh out of defeat, and walk over to a phone booth, quickly dialing a number. "Ah, _papa_?" I asked into the receiver, hearing a male voice on the other line. "_Da, horosho, a u vas_?" I asked, waiting for his response.

As my conversation continued, the back and forth with my dad succeeded in keeping me preoccupied with my original plan when I was able to snap out of it, before getting to the bedrock of my point. As I made an inquiry to my dad, he gave a negative answer, and then began to explain his reasoning as to why, and from what I was told, I could feel a faint sinking feeling in my stomach. It was because of that, or the pretzel I had on the plane.

"What's he doing?" Naoko asked, as the conversation with my father lasted for a good few minutes.

"We're in Russia," Brett reminded. "Of course he's going to speak to somebody in Russian when he calls them. From the way he's talking, I'd say it's his dad. Can't imagine him helping out too much. From what Naoko said, they don't pay too much attention to their kid."

"Maybe they're gonna wire money for a hotel," Akiraka said, as I placed the phone back on the holder, and walked back to where the other three were waiting for me. "Well, how'd it go with your old man?"

"Turns out we can't stay at my place," I said, surprising the others, that I would consider letting them into my house. "My parents are gonna send me some money for some motel rooms for tonight."

"Why would you ask if we could stay at your house?" Brett asked.

"Cost less than a hotel, doesn't it?" I asked in response. "Well, apparently when they left, somebody broke into the house, and when they got a call the police could only find a note that said, 'I'll find him,'" I explained as the ominous words of the note rang through their heads. "They were pretty sure it was for me, since my dad hasn't got any enemies, so they don't want me going back to the house until they know it's safe for me."

"So what does that mean for you?" Akiraka asked.

"I live with my sister until they're caught," I answered. "The police don't have any leads as to who it is seeing as there's really nobody who has it in for me, and I don't have friends at school. So after the tournament, they want me to just stay with my sister until they can figure something out."

"I thought your parents didn't know about the tournament," Naoko said, remembering the little interaction I have with my parents.

"They didn't, I had to tell them why I was calling from Moscow," I answered. "They were fine with it, so long as I make sure to check in with Natsumi whenever I go someplace else. They said they'd be going to the tournament in Paris to watch, and see just what I was doing with my time, which makes me a little nervous."

"Why?" Brett asked.

"Oh, because if I'm not doing something, they deem as a valuable use of my free time, they'd pull me out of the tournament, and then I'd be living with my sister for nearly three months before they get back from their little trip," I explained, deciding not to tell either of the older reps about what my sister does. "The fact remains that we have to go and find the motel they rented out for the night, and get settled in. Oh, they also said they could go for three rooms, so somebody's gonna have to share."

I looked at the other three people, and began coming up with different solutions in my head. Off the top of it, there were only two that seemed logical, and for the purposes of keeping things somewhat G-rated. Idea one, me and Brett share a room, or idea two, Akiraka and Naoko share a room. But of course, because of Brett's overall positive outlook on everything, I would jump at the opportunity to share a room (not enough sarcasm signs for that one). I decided I would let everyone else figure out the rooming situation, and give them my idea when we actually got to the motel.

* * *

Driving through the streets of Moscow is a lot like driving through a lot of cities with one upside; if you don't speak Russian, you never know what the heck people are saying when they're yelling at you. The only problems for me in this case was that A, I was pushed up against the side of the door in the cab, and B, every time somebody swore in my tongue, I was definitely aware of it. Aside from that, it's hard to feel out of place in the larger cities anywhere in the world; people generally can tell you're a tourist if you stick in a large group of one ethnic race, and they know if you're a native if you know what the heck you're doing.

The cab came to a stop, after we reached the motel; a fairly well built complex that had a total of four different levels, and looked to have a full breakfast bar. As the four of us walked out of the car, the man in the driver's seat held out his hand.

"Two hundred rubles, friend," he said, as the three of the Japanese reps looked at me surprised, and then saw I paid him in full right then and there.

"_Spasibo_," I said, as he tipped his hat, and drove off.

"Two hundred?" Naoko asked. "Is that a lot of money? Because I know that a United states dollar is about a hundred yen."

"For like eighty eight, but yeah," Akiraka corrected.

"Hmm, I think about a hundred yen would get you around thirty six rubles," I said, walking into the motel. "So that kind of cab fare is about five hundred fifty, maybe."

"Not a bad fare," Brett said, standing in the back of the room, as I walked up to the counter, and asked about a room under either my name, or my parents' name.

"Ah," she said, speaking in English, unsure if I could speak Russian. "Here you go, _devochka_," she said, making me stress my shoulders, with blush covering my face.

"What'd she call you?" Naoko asked.

"She called me a 'girl,'" I said, holding the three room keys, and giving them to each of the reps. "You guys can go choose which rooms you want, and get your stuff unpacked, I need to walk around a bit," I said, leaving my bag with Brett, who narrowed his eyes onto me, and watched as I calmly walked out the door.

* * *

Over the past six years of my life, since I nearly froze to death, a tolerance to the cold has sort of become natural to me. More so than I would just living in Russia, and visiting my sister in Hokkaido. But something about snow had always perplexed me; it almost ended my life, granted by my choice, and yet whenever I see it, nothing else seems as pure and benign. As I walked through one of the parks, I found a bench, and just took a quick seat, running my fingers through my hair, following it all the way down to the ends halfway down my back, and thought back to Natsumi, and how she would be feeling without me. As I've said before, there's not a whole lot of time that we've spent apart, and she says that her grades at school are always better when she knows where I am for sure.

I stood up, and began walking back down the snow covered path, with my hands stuffed into my pockets, catching one of the frozen raindrops on my tongue. I chuckled to myself, wondering why, even though I tried to act mature, there were those things about myself that just seemed to be more childish, but at the same time, universal. I stood up from my spot, and noticed the snow quickly amassing around the impression from where I sat, meaning that it would be a while before we left for Paris. I began walking back down the street, finding myself more relaxed than I had been for a few weeks now with the preparations for the tournament. Whether it was because of the snow, or just the nostalgic feeling of the city was anyone's guess, but it wasn't long before I found myself back in my neighborhood.

"Did the police already leave my home?" I wondered, making a short sprint to my address, and found the building mostly taped off. "Trying to keep people out, huh? Too bad for them, I know all the entrances," I said, disappearing around the corner, not noticing a tall figure walking directly behind me in the shadows.

* * *

My house is one of the older ones, built sometime in the earlier nineteenth century, so nothing is really ever as it seems. Built during the Romanov dynasty, the second and last dynasty of Russia for the Tsars, lasting from the early sixteen hundred until the assassination of the Czar in the early nineteen hundreds, my house was said to have been originally finished during the reign of the Czar known as Alexander the Blessed. In that time, the Czar wished for a reform of the centralized form of government currently in the state, and my family, holding true to the rule of Ivan the Terrible, created a way out of the house whenever officials would come to deliver those notices about such things. Growing up, I remember being pretty dang curious about the house's inner workings, and found a whole bunch of ways in and out of the house for fun. Really helped to get away from Natsumi when she was staying here during winter break last year.

* * *

Pushing one of the hollow panels in the walls outwards, I found myself in the house I grew up in until I was eight, after which I was bounced back and forth from here and Japan. I saw the place was basically ransacked, from the first room to the higher floors, meaning that whatever somebody wanted, they were willing to work to find it. I don't know why I was enthralled by the situation, but all I did know is that I wasn't supposed to come back here, and I wasn't willing to listen to my parents' warning.

I walked up the staircase up to the room I had stayed in for most of my life, seeing what seemed like my entire life passing by in the few steps it took to reach my bedroom. It made me feel not only nostalgic, running my hands over the grain of the wood used to make the support beam for the staircase, but also depression that there was so little I could really look back on. Every day before and after school, I would walk up this same staircase, and then that was usually it. Never spending my time with the few people that said I was their friend, even though I was never sure they really meant it. Those thoughts hurt me, but nothing hurt worse to me at that moment then the sudden shock to my head after being struck at the top of the staircase by something definitely made of wood. As I fell to the ground, I had still yet to fall unconscious while the figure behind me dropped the item to the ground by my head.

"Pictures don't lie," the person said. I was too out of sorts to tell whether it was male or female. "You look better asleep," they said, as I could feel them reaching down towards my head, but suddenly froze, millimeters from my hair. "Oh, a knight in shining armor for this damsel in distress?" they asked tauntingly, with a shaded figure stepping barely into the realm of visibility.

I tried to turn my head to see what was happening behind my back, but all I could see was a tall figure, holding out a long, flat piece of metal, shining in what little sunshine was beaming through the window. The metal strip was placed in between my assailant's hand, and my hair, as though protecting me from whatever they were about to do.

"It is not the place of a grown person to bully younger children," the man said. My mind was still too disoriented to recognize his voice. "Either you leave now, or I will strike you down here and now. Believe me, it is not wise to threaten the Czar," he said, making me think on his words, along with the words of my attacker before falling unconscious.

"Very well," the attacker said, backing away from my sleeping body, holding their hands up in defense. "I leave you with him, but remember," they started. "A boy like this will always be easy to find. And believe me…I will find him," they said before disappearing into the wreckage that was originally my home.

"_Baka_," the man said under his breath, withdrawing the strip of metal to his side, as though it were some kind of sword. "They did warn you," he finished, before picking me up, and carrying me back through the way I came.

* * *

When I woke up, it was already dark out. The snow was made apparent only by the moonlight, and the street lamps lining the roads. My vision was still blurred, either from just having woken up, or by the lasting head trauma that would no doubt plague me for some time. I held my head in pain, as I walked towards a window, not recognizing the neighborhood I was in initially. Taking a moment to recollect myself, I began looking back and forth, eventually seeing the golden onion domes helping me figure out at least my general area.

"I'm in the hospital," I said, looking back, to see the different equipment around the spot where I was laying down…also, the fact I was basically wearing a paper gown helped to narrow down my location. "Who saved me?"

"That's what we've been trying to figure out," a voice said from behind, leading up to Akiraka and Naoko standing in the doorway. "You've been out for about five hours, so it's not like they hit your head too hard."

"Still feels that way," I said, lying back down on the bed. "Where's Brett? Didn't want to come?"

"I'm not so sure he was against coming as much as he wasn't quite ready to face you, yet," Naoko explained. "He said he found you passed on in the snow outside your house, and that he noticed the head wound you had, and immediately took you to the hospital."

"I need to talk to him," I said, weakly standing up, taking breaths in between each word I said.

"Can't it wait until your head stops hurting?" Akiraka asked, trying to keep me from falling down. "I'm sure what you have to say can wait a few hours. It's not like Brett's going to leave right now, is he?"

"No, because I'm pretty sure Brett's the one that saved me," I said, planting a surprised look on both of their faces. "Naoko just said that he found me at my house. How did he know that it was my house? He said he wasn't interested in sightseeing, so why was he even out and about? The one who saved me was a tall man, and I'm pretty sure he had a katana."

"How does that put suspicion on Brett?" Naoko asked.

"Brett's scar is from a single slash mark," I said, noting the scar with my finger against my own eye. "Broadswords and steak knives aren't able to cause a mark like that without discoloring the eye itself from bloodspots. It means that Brett got that kind of a scar from a single, quick slice down his face, which barely grazed his eye. A thin blade from a Japanese katana would be more than capable. Nobody gets that precise of a scar from an accident, and probably from training with one himself."

"Simply being trained to use a sword doesn't mean he was lying about that," Akiraka said, pushing me back on to the hospital bed. "Now, what other kind of proof do you have about Brett being the one who saved you, and bringing you here?"

"He knew about Czar," I said as both of the female representatives looked at me understandingly. "My own parents don't know that side of me, and I doubt my sister does either. Both parties are on the social side of things, and would've let it leak by sometime if they did know, and even if they did, none of them have ever experienced who the Czar is firsthand."

"It could have been somebody from the National Tournament in Moscow a few months ago," Naoko suggested as I shook my head.

"The Pokémon Company pulled the story off of the internet within twenty four hours because of my age, and none of the people I battled were as analytical as Brett to know the implications that side of me entertains," I explained. "Whoever saved me was somebody who knew about who I truly am, knows how to use a sword, and knew exactly where I was going to go. Brett's the only viable choice."

"No offense, Sasha-kun, but I'd be more worried about you attacked you in the first place," Akiraka said, still making sure I wasn't going to jump out of my bed. "I mean, somebody may really have it out for you. They already tried to bash your head in. Who knows how far this could escalate," she explained as I began thinking about the person who attacked me. "Did they say anything?"

"Only one thing that didn't add up," I answered. "'Pictures don't lie, you look better asleep,' but I have no idea what that even pertains to."

"It's the last picture your sister sent out on Sunday," Naoko said quickly, pulling out a laptop from her bag, and quickly logging into the wireless connection at the hospital. "In case Brett called us, Aspen-chan asked to put you into a room where there was wireless access. But anyway, around midnight between Sunday and Monday of this last week, your sister posted a picture of you asleep," she said, turning the screen of her laptop towards us, making me blush with embarrassment at the picture of me sleeping soundly, in those old pajamas my sister made me sleep in.

"That was just after I went to sleep," I reminded myself. "Do you think that this person was just one of those stalker types who just wanted to capture that object of her emotions?"

"It's possible," Akiraka said. "But it's also possible that this could have to do with the tournament itself," she said, confusing us all. "About a month before the tournament names were released there was a robbery in the Pokémon Company, and somebody made off with the version of our games programmed to dragon type pokémon. This assailant may have something to do with that."

"Then why make a reference to this picture?" Naoko asked.

"Either to throw us off or it has nothing to do at all with the picture, even though it does look pretty good," she said, as Naoko showed her some of the other pictures Natsumi had taken of me. "What kind of camera does your sister use?" she asked, making me go red again with embarrassment.

"I don't know! The kind where it must say on the box, 'This product must be used for the humiliation of your younger brother only,' because that's the only time she uses it," I said, slightly angered by the idea in its entirety. "She's been doing that for around four or five years, and to be pretty frank about it, it's getting old. Not that I enjoyed it when the idea first came up."

"Sisters can be annoying sometimes," Akiraka said. "My older sister can be a bit obsessive too, but she's just being protective."

"Back to the issue at hand," Naoko said, for once, being the voice of reality in the conversation. "Either this picture or the tournament is the basis behind this attack, but first, there's something to take care of," she said, turning to me. "Your sister must be very lonely, so let's send her a picture of this, to show you're all right."

"You sure this is about my sister? Or do you just want to feel that rush she gets by doing this?" I asked. "Because you can bet good money that my sister will be freaking out when she sees I'm in a hospital," I said, as Naoko snapped her fingers out of defeat. "Out of curiosity, though, if Brett did save me, why bring me all the way to the hospital when he could've just gone back to the motel to call an ambulance."

"Maybe he got lost?" Akiraka asked.

"If he would ask directions for a hospital five miles away, then why could he do the same for a motel less than two?" I asked, scratching the bottom of my chin to think. "He needed me out because he needs to do something to figure out who the Czar is," I postulated, not exactly confident in my being right, but at least it was a suggestion. "You two get back to the motel, and see what he's up to. Chances are if he's trying to keep me out, he'll still be able to confide in you two."

"Why would you want him finding out about that part of you?" Akiraka asked, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

"Because I need to know more as well," I said, as the two nodded, and made their way out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. _"I try not to be paranoid about this kind of stuff, but Aspen may be right, and this attack has to do with the theft against the Pokémon Company. At the same time, Naoko's idea may also have it right, and this is just one of those people that Natsumi-nee tried to protect me from. The fact remains, however, that Brett used it has an excuse to get me out of the immediate area and find out more about the Czar. And by the mercy of the Lord, I hope he does."_

* * *

Lit only by his computer's screen, the room Brett sat in was devoid of anything being just thrown about and instead was neatly tucked away, so as not to be an obstruction in his path. Rubbing his forehead out of frustration, his computer had two different internet pages currently running; one with a picture of the pokémon Gallade, and the other with an oil painting of what one would assume to be Ivan the Terrible.

"Everything is connected somehow," he said, over and over again, pressing his clenched fist to his head. "How does Gallade connect to Ivan Grozniy?" he asked, rolling out with his chair, looking at the darkened room, making out the faint outline of a long scabbard. _"Gallade is called in the pokédex as the Blade pokémon, known to attack savagely when trying to protect its own. The Pokémon Company was said to base Gallade, possibly off of an Arthurian Knight Sir Galahad, but the crest borrows from the Roman gladiators. Nothing about its physiology, origins, or naming having anything to do with Russian history that might even lead back to the Czar. The only thing that people have been willing to say was based on Russian was the naming of the pokémon Jirachi. Originating from the word 'zhelat' meaning wish, but that isn't important. Maybe I should look for Gallade's Russian name," _he suggested, quickly typing in a search bar engine for the subject. _"What? Pokémon names in Russian games are often just written in Cyrillic text instead? So, there's no special name for Gallade, or any other pokémon in Russian."_

As he let his head hang back behind his chair, he looked up at the ceiling of the motel, and began to race through every thought going into his head, imaging the Gallade he battled. The sight of the single Psycho Cut was enough to send a million other thoughts into his head; the form in which it was used, the unnerving confidence behind the choice of attack, and then the confession behind Sasha's lineage.

"_Lineage!"_ Brett realized, flipping his head back up, and darting it forward, madly typing at the computer in front of him, focused only on the page about Ivan the Terrible. _"When trying to make connections between two specific parties, it's easy to become enthralled by one, and completely forget why you were on the other. Ivan the Terrible was named as such, with the true translation being more 'fearsome' because of something. If there's any form of connection between them, then it'll all work out for me in the end."_

Quickly scanning through the information page on my ancestor, Brett inched his eyes closer to the screen, the shadows of the room obstructing his views, as he relaxed in his chair, never taking his eyes of the computer screen.

"Didn't take long, huh?" he asked, already knowing that the other two representatives from Japan were outside the door. "I should give the kid credit, being able to figure out that I was the one who sent his attacker away. He's pretty perceptive."

"Why didn't you say something about it?" Akiraka asked as she began to walk into the room. "Why did you have to keep it a secret from Sasha-kun when you know you can probably learn more about whatever he has by just talking to him?"

"Sasha is only fourteen years old," Brett began to explain, scrolling through the page on Ivan the Terrible, reading the information on him only in passing. "Five thousand years ago, he would have been old enough to marry. But that was a time when people could have been sold as property no matter where they came from, and it wasn't odd to see a mother of two in their mid to late teens. Nowadays, children are sheltered from what the world is in reality, and finding out about what kind of person lives inside him may be psychologically traumatizing for him. Besides, I hate being looked at as a hero."

"Why?" Naoko asked, walking towards him, but suddenly freezing as the tip of a sword's blade stared her in the face.

"Because a hero involves being proud of what you've done, or knowing that what you did is right," he said, looking off to the side, but knowing full well where the sword was pointed towards. "Neither of those applies to me, and to be quite honest, I've never wanted to change that fact of my life. 'Compassion and respect are words that people made to mask the weakness that lies inside them,'" he said, as though quoting another person. "Sasha doesn't need to know any of the findings that I make, and needs to know that I'm looking into his condition."

"Why can't he know about your findings?" Akiraka asked.

"Because I'm not quite sure how even I would feel about knowing the truth of the one person outside my family to ever beat me," Brett answered, turning back to his laptop, and continuing to scroll through the website. "When you go back for Sasha, tell him I said he needs to get better, because I don't want any excuses that he was hurt when I beat him."

"Got it," Akiraka said, leading Naoko back out the door, with the latter trying to stay in, most likely for more interrogation.

"Why are you forcing me out of there?" Naoko asked, as Akiraka held her hand to her mouth to keep her from talking excessively.

"Because we're going to have to get the information Brett's gathering to Sasha-kun, no matter what," she replied, making sure that no one was awake to hear. "Now look, I want you to go back, and stay with Sasha-kun, and when he goes to sleep, I'll try to sneak into his room, and figure out what he's looking into."

"So why aren't we telling this to Sasha-kun?" Naoko asked; her voice still a little too loud for Akiraka's liking.

"Because, if he knew that Brett was doing this for his sake, he's ask us not to interfere, and you saw those pictures…a kid like that is pretty persuasive when it comes to older girls," she said, remembering some of the pictures Naoko had shown her. "Those images will be burned into my mind forever."

* * *

As the final streetlights were shut off for the night around the hotel, Akiraka stood alone in the hallway adjacent to Brett's room, listening at the door, still hearing an incessant typing sound, indicating to her, he was still at his computer. Knowing full well that what she was doing could've been considered a felony, Akiraka's breathing began to quicken in pace, not allowing much room for her to go unnoticed by other people walking through the hallways, trying to make it seem as though they were looking the other way. Just as she turned back to the door, she heard the typing had stopped, and something landed, or more of collapsed to the bed towards the closet in the room, which was also farthest from the door.

Waiting for several minutes until she was sure he was asleep, Akiraka entered Brett's room, sliding a card key she requested, upon the assumption it was, in fact, her own room. As she closed the door, making sure to not make a loud slamming sound, she turned around, to see a large form in the bed adjacent to both the small closet and desk towards the back of the room, and sighed out of relief knowing that he was already asleep. As she quietly walked towards the desk, she reached out her hand to feel for the computer, but began stumbling, realizing there was nothing in her field of reach. As she began moving her arm in wide motions, trying to find the laptop, originally on his Brett's desk, Akiraka's frustration was becoming all the more apparent.

"That idiot!" she whispered. "Why couldn't he just placed it somewhere where it would be easily found, and make my job a lot easier?"

"Because breaking and entering, even in a hotel room could be considered a crime," a voice said from behind, making Akiraka freeze up, and turn her head to the form in the bed, looking at it more closely, and finding it to be nothing more than a mass of pillows. "Looking for something?" the voice asked, as a bright light began shining behind her, making her nod in realization that not only was Brett till awake, but he was aware of the situation, prepared for it, and definitely angered. "Couldn't trust me, huh?"

"You don't exactly give us good reason," Akiraka answered, as Brett sat down on his bed, and closed his laptop with a sigh.

"Even if you had gotten away with this, there are a series of passwords specific to me that barely anybody could figure out by random guessing," Brett said. "You know, I thought it was implied that I wanted you two to stay out of this, but you really leave me no choice, but to let you in on it."

"Really?" Akiraka asked, unconvinced. "What's the catch?"

"You have to beat me in a battle," Brett said, holding up his game system, and placing the computer into a large satchel. "If you can beat me in a basic double battle with two pokémon, I'll let both you and Naoko in on my research. But if you can't, not only must you keep all my findings, even the stuff I'm sure you're prepared to tell Sasha, a complete secret from him, and no longer interfere with my work. Deal?" he asked as Akiraka gritted her teeth out of frustration.

"Deal," she said, as she was led down the hallway towards the lobby where one of the terminals had indeed been placed by the Pokémon Company.

* * *

As both players plugged in their game systems, Akiraka's heart began racing, indicating to Brett that it was her first time using the battle system. He heaved a sigh out, and thought about the race he got from Sasha battling him, and how the chances of it happening were slowly dimming.

"Double Battle," he said through the microphone as Akiraka's pokémon were all shown to her. "Pokémon one, and five," Brett said without hesitation, making Akiraka all the more nervous about how familiar he was with the system.

"Um, pokémon four and six," she said as the screen blacked out, and reappeared as a grassy battlefield, and both of the pokémon she had chosen being thrown out first; one a female Tyranitar, and second a male Gigalith.

She then waited anxiously at the two pokémon Brett chose, and seeing them quickly take to the stage, the first being the Quagsire he used against Sasha previously, and the other a Poliwrath who kept its hands up as though in an actual boxing match.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he said as Akiraka made a loud gulping sound out of nervousness. "The only downside to this is the Sandstorm your Tyranitar brings to the table," he said as he noticed the entire field quickly became surrounded by the sand particles emerging from Tyranitar's power alone. "But that's why we have Quagsire. Muddy Water, and Poliwrath, you know what to do," he said as Quagsire took a few steps forward while Poliwrath brought its stance inward.

With a mighty slap of its tail on the ground, Quagsire produced a large wave filled with debris, and dirt, turning it a deep brown color, well deserving of its attack name. despite the imposing figure of the wave, about to crash down on her two rock pokémon, Akiraka was more interested in what Brett had said to his Poliwrath, seeing it in a closed stance, but with a definite power beginning to surround it.

"Oh no," she said, as the wave came crashing down on her pokémon, dwindling both of their current health meters well into the yellow area. "Tyranitar, Chip Away on that Poliwrath, and Gigalith, you get ready," she said as Brett looked more intently at Gigalith, only able to see a light shine coming from the different crystals set into its body.

As Tyranitar made its way through the sandstorm, it simply raised one of its arms, and made a quick slashing motion downward onto Poliwrath, who simply froze in place, lowering its stance, and made no effort to attack whatsoever. As Akiraka gave a small sigh of relief, Brett gritted his teeth, and then laid back in his seat as he studied her mood.

"You're not what you seem," Brett said. "You have a nickname based on a genus of tree, you know more than you let on, and without even knowing this system at all, you knew that Poliwrath would be using a Focus Punch. I can tell you're not as nervous as you make yourself out to be, so why don't we stop the whole charade, and you show me what you're really capable of?"

"Humph," Akiraka started. "I guess nothing gets past you, does it? Well, when you think about it, battling me like this isn't really fair. Rock types alone have five different weaknesses, all commonly used by most other trainers. You, Naoko-chan, and Sasha-kun all have elements that could beat mine super effectively. A battle such as this can't exactly be counted as fair, so it suggests that you have no intention of sharing your research with me, are you?"

"That would be a correct assumption," Brett answered, bringing the microphone to his face. "Time to finish you off. Poliwrath, just be ready," he began as Akiraka focused again on Poliwrath who prepared another Focus Punch attack. "And Quagsire, let's finish them off," he continued as the large water and ground type gave a small sneer. "Muddy Water!" he shouted, the familiar tail slap on the ground sounding throughout the simulator screen.

As the giant wave of polluted water was about to come crashing down on both of her pokémon, Akiraka clenched her fist, and gritted her teeth, practically praying for a miracle. The sound of the wave crashing down nearly sickened her, but found there to be a lack of pokémon cries among their being defeated. As she looked up at the screen, she saw the both of her pokémon were left unscathed by the attack, and that neither were affected whatsoever.

"Thanks, guys," she said, noticing that to simulate the missing of the attack, Tyranitar had made a large crevice in the earth below it, draining the water before it could reach either it or Gigalith. "Tyranitar, Dark Pulse on that Quagsire, and Gigalith…fire!" she said as Tyranitar made a single stomp on the ground, forcing a large purple colored pulsation into the ground.

As the wave of shadow impacted with Quagsire, Brett watched indifferently as Quagsire's health depleted down to the borderline between the green and yellow area of the health bar. He gave a small smirk of satisfaction, but then noticed a faint glow emitting from the other pokémon facing directly across from Quagsire.

"Solarbeam, fire!" Akiraka said, as the crystals lining Gigalith's body all began to shine in the same harsh light, while firing the attack directly at Quagsire. _"Sandstorm in this case is among my best friend, and my worst enemy. Not only has it risen the special defense stat of all steel, rock, and ground types, but it also halves the overall power of my Solarbeam. This is one of those times I'm sure that Sasha would've figured something else out by now. The only difference between me and him; I don't care about the win or loss either way," _she said, reopening her eyes, watching Quagsire be blasted back against the boundary of the battlefield, barely being defeated by the weakened attack.

"_Taku_," Brett said under his breath, as his pokémon was quickly returned and only his Poliwrath, with a little more than half of its health remaining, between the first round of Sandstorm, and Tyranitar's Chip Away. "Poliwrath, finish off that Gigalith!" he commanded, the water and fighting mix suddenly being surrounded in an aura consisting of the colors blue and brown, the small image of a glass gem shattering above its head. "Focus Punch!"

It took little time for Poliwrath to reach the point where Gigalith stood, and with one mighty punch, the aura around the pokémon was transferred through the punch, and onto Gigalith. The scene looked like something out of an old monster movie where the strange hero figure showed off their final bout of strength, and the giant monster terrorizing the citizens of the setting would fall to the ground, never to be heard from again. As Gigalith disappeared into a pokéball, Akiraka and Brett both stared at their last pokémon, a Tyranitar with half of its health left, and a Poliwrath currently being, as the pokémon games once put it, buffeted by the current weather condition, leaving it with a similar amount of strength.

"_At the current moment, I don't know Poliwrath's actual speed amount, nor do I know any of its other attacks,"_ Akiraka said to herself, looking into the screen at her Tyranitar, still standing as strong as it had from the beginning of the battle, but was quickly showing signs of fatigue. _"Water against rock is an easy win, it's why the first gym leader in three different regions has used it. But, Quagsire was pretty fast, only using the same move over and over again. Rock types are pretty slow, but does that mean that a Quagsire can have that much speed? If I remember correctly, when I used a Quagsire, the base speed of it is only thirty five. For it to be faster than my Tyranitar means that there was another form of trickery being used. It wasn't as apparent when Sasha-kun battled Brett, because Hariyama and Quagsire are both slow pokémon by nature. But even then, it only used one move. One move, better than average stats that would otherwise be horrid, and a mind to use the worst stats of another pokémon."_

"Choice Scarf, am I right?" Akiraka asked, Brett looking up at her with an indifferent expression.

"You are," Brett admitted. "The true nature of a trainer is not to nurture the stats that are already strong in a pokémon, but to raise it in the stats that are weaker, and make all the pokémon in the game as equal as they can be."

"Sasha-kun was right," Akiraka said. "You are a hard guy to figure out. You put on this persona like you don't care about the world around you, and yet you go and save the kid, try and find out something about his condition, and make sure that nothing gets leaked to others even though they might be your friends. And yet, you talk of your pokémon as though they were real. This has helped you in your life more than you're letting on, hasn't it?"

"I'll say one thing," Brett started. "Pokémon has been one of the things in my life that has helped me to trust others. It's nothing _he_ would understand. Poliwrath, Focus Punch!" he commanded, Akiraka already seeing just the blue aura surrounding Poliwrath.

"_That brown membrane must have been a Fighting Gem to boost its Focus Punch,"_ she said to herself. _"Not that it's going to help him now,"_ she said with a wide smile on her face. "Tyranitar, Hyper Beam!" she said loudly into the speaker system as energy began to gather just outside of the dark and rock type mix's mouth. "Fire!" Akiraka gave as her final command, seeing the blast travel at break neck speed at the frozen water and fighting mix.

Seeing the attack proceed towards Poliwrath, Akiraka gave a satisfied smile, and laid back in her seat. As she flipped her head back down to face Brett, her smile slowly dimmed, at the sight of Poliwrath still standing with its eyes angled down.

"A word of advice," Brett began. "You need to work on your aim," he said as Poliwrath lifted its eyes sharply, and disappeared in its own speed, only to reappear behind Tyranitar with its fist thrust forward, as though it had already completed the punch. "As they say in tennis; game, set, and match."

Akiraka fell down to her knees out of shock, not only for losing the match when she was sure she had won, but also that she wasn't able to accomplish what she wanted to in being let in on Brett's research. Brett stood up, after unplugging his game system from the jack, and walked past Akiraka, seeing her nearly about to cry in frustration. As he walked completely past her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and then gave a nod to her.

"Respect comes in two forms, Aspen," he said, making Akiraka widen her eyes in surprise that he called her by her nickname. "The respect that you get from having beaten someone," he said, remembering the single shot from my Gallade's Psycho Cut. "And there's the respect in knowing that somebody did their best to accomplish a goal. Welcome to that second party," he said, before walking back up the stair, with his laptop in hand, making Aspen puff out her cheeks to keep from crying any more.

* * *

The hospital room was fairly quiet, and most of it for me was spent battling Naoko, which by no means was very fun for both of us. Given that Naoko used steel types, the current one being used, a Scizor named Kana, the matches between us were fairly short, one-sided, and by no means time consuming, which I'm led to believe was the bedrock of her attempt. My pokémon on the other hand, an Emboar named Theta, found the defeat of a bug and steel type to be so easy, it was hardly enjoyable.

"At this rate, Naoko-san, I'm going to know all your pokémon _before_ the first round," I said, as she looked up at me with her cheeks puffed out in frustration. "What do you say we stop for now? The pokémon may just be data, but I need some rest."

"No!" she said shaking me up and down from the shoulders. "The doctor said that you can't go back to sleep or you'll fall into a coma, and if you did that then the stalker would win!"

"How do you mean?" I asked, also confused by her always bright, bubbly, and in some cases, erratic behavior.

"The stalker has a major fetish for you when you're asleep," she said pointing back to the picture, which was also given me reason not to fall asleep. "And if you fall asleep now, then they'll win, and you don't want that now do you. And it'll be worse in a coma, because then you'll be asleep twenty four seven, and then they'll really have the last laugh."

I'll say this, while Naoko may have a good heart, she's as annoying as my sister when she has her mocha latté with two shots of chocolate and caffeine, but Naoko still has more energy. As we sat alone in the dimly lit room, I could feel my eyes beginning to get heavy, and obviously this didn't go unnoticed by Naoko, who placed a small ice cube down my back, making me jump from the bed, desperately trying to get the stupid thing out. As it fell to the floor, directly below me, I turned around to shoot a crossed look at Naoko who managed to keep a composed look despite seeing me pretty much dance around like an idiot for several seconds out of sheer tundra cold.

"Shockingly, this isn't going to help get rid of my concussion," I said, as I rested my head down on the pillow, only to find Naoko laying down in the bed next to me, mere centimeters from my face. "What are you doing?" I asked as she looked at me plainly as though nothing was wrong.

"I'm going to make sure you don't fall asleep," she said as I turned off to one side, pulling the covers back over the bed, trying to find some way to relax.

Thankfully, Naoko had stayed silent for a consecutive minute, which, by my count, must've been a record, allowing me to breathe out very gently as though to fall asleep, but felt a sudden sensation of cold against the back of my neck, making me freeze up with goose bumps. As I turned my head around very slowly and sporadically, I saw Naoko with the same innocent look on her face as though she hadn't done anything wrong. I pursed my lips out of frustration, and turned back in my bed, only for another ice cube to be dropped down my shirt, making me jump back out of the bed.

"Will you stop that!?" I asked angrily, as I looked to her side, and saw a small bucket filled to the brim with ice cubes. "This is going to be a long night," I said, hearing somebody walking through the halls. "May wanna go check that out," I said, as Naoko nodded, and poked her head out the door, to see who exactly was out the door. "Anything?" I asked.

"Nope," she said. "Are you sure that you heard something?" she asked as a loud crash rang out through the hospital, and alerting just about everyone else in the hospital. "Shut up," she said, seeing the smug grin on my face.

The sound of several running footsteps followed the crashing sound, most likely some of the doctors and security guards, trying to make sure it was neither a break in, nor a patient in trouble. As the sounds of the darkened hospital began to settle, I found that Naoko's breathing pace had begun to quicken, making it very apparent to me that she was, indeed, scared out of her mind. I placed a hand on her shoulder, and tried to reassure her, which was not aided by the sudden banging on our door, where the shadows of three people stood.

"Alexander Takebana, _eta tboya komnata_?" one of the men asked, inquiring if this was my room.

"_Da, boydite,_" I said, as the three men came in, seeing me seated at the edge of my bed. "_Chto eto_?" I asked, noticing a small stone in their hand.

As the conversation between me and the men lasted for a few good minutes, I was beginning to share a bit of Naoko's fear, not entirely sure of what was going to happen to me, or any of the others currently with me over the next couple months. As they left, I could feel Naoko sheepishly walk behind me, and look over my shoulder at a rounded out rock with the words, "_Vashi pokponniki."_

"What does that mean?" she asked, unable to read the Cyrillic text.

"Your admirers," I said plainly. "Making a word plural in Russian is easy, and is always of the same kinds of sounds. If you take out the 'ee' sound at the end, it would mean just a single fan, or admirer. But this means that there are several people in this immediate area who call themselves my fans."

"W-Well, how do we know it's for you?" Naoko asked, as I turned over the stone, with the word written in red letters, "Sasha."

"That's how you write my nickname in the Cyrillic text," I explained. "Naoko," I started as she looked at me worried. "You were right, the attack on me has nothing to do with the tournament, but instead a bunch of stalkers out to get me. I'll be counting on you for the next couple months," I said, giving her a slight bow.

"I look forward to working with you," she said, as she returned the bow, and we both looked up at each other with a smile. "But you do know that you still can't fall asleep for tonight, right?" she asked, dropping another ice cube down my back, making me cringe before jumping up from the bed, trying my best to get the ice cube as fast as possible. Naoko watched my reactions, and looked at me, trying to stifle her laughter, but found herself unable, quickly bursting into full on laughter, to the point of tears coming out of her eyes.

* * *

The following day was much more relaxing for me, finally being able to sleep for the first time in twenty hours, I quickly fell asleep while on the plane, travelling over to Paris. The thoughts of what happened last night had left neither myself, nor Naoko as she waited for the okay to use her electronic devices, quickly going on to the website where all my pictures were visible. Before going to sleep, I found that both Brett and Akiraka were both a little on edge, Brett still not having admitted that he was the one to have helped me, and Akiraka, I still don't fully know what was going on with her at that point. All I know is that there was either frustration, or a whole other mix of emotions bottled up inside her, just about ready to blow.

I stayed asleep for most of the flight, and missed much of what was happening around me, but all I do remember from the flight was that upon waking, one of the flight attendants was staring at me with eyes studying every inch of my anatomy. As I looked at her with tired eyes, she quickly tried to recompose herself, and brought one of the carts of food next to my seat.

"Would you like something, _devochka_?" she asked, my head sinking a bit lower, and turning to the side with a quick , "_nyet_" from me.

Arriving in Paris made me feel a bit nervous; granted I'm sure that neither myself, Akiraka, Naoko, or Brett knew any French, and it was becoming all the more imperative to find our contact, a man by the name of Julien Durand. As we walked through the airport, we found ourselves by the airport lounge, waiting for this Julien person. While waiting, and turning back a bunch of flirty guys all talking to either Akiraka, Naoko, and, of course, since my face has been cursed to look like a girl, myself, most of us, especially Brett, but what else was new, were beginning to think that maybe this Julien kid wasn't going to be the most reliable person in the world. Although, this much I will say, talking to some of those guys in my really thick, Russian voice, when it goes down maybe two octaves in pitch made it all the more worth it when they began speaking in French really fast as though disgusted with either me or themselves.

"_Excusez-moi_," another boy said, walking up to the three of us. "Are you possibly the group from Japan that I am supposed to meet here," he asked as we all looked up at him, and he gave a fairly gallant bow to all of us. "_Enchetez, je m'appele_ Julien Duran," he introduced. With the four of us only catching the name he said, we figure it was him, and followed him to the car, taking us to the hotel for the tournament.

* * *

Julien wasn't really all that much like I expected, granted my experience with people from France was limited to my sister's professor, but that guy was older than dirt, and the bishounen characters from my sister's manga collection. Julien was normal in terms of his build, and definitely shorter than Brett, if that's hard to believe, despite being around the same age, standing probably at about five foot eight. His hair was long in the back, reaching almost to his shoulders, and a bit shorter as it went over his forehead, shaded a dirty blond color, and his eyes a light blue color. The weather, being fairly cold, probably just about anywhere we were going to, helped to influence his wardrobe, consisting of a pair of black denim jeans, a blue t-shirt, made apparent only when he took of his red colored sweatshirt after we got into the car, and a red wool cap he also removed upon entering the car.

* * *

"So, Julien," Brett started with his arms folded, while facing him in the car. "Why the lavish ride? Pokémon isn't exactly big amongst people, or is something that most people like to associate themselves with."

"I like to think that the Pokémon Company wants to show the seriousness that originally went along with the original games," he explained. "The fan base just happened to be younger audiences, so they had to eventually cater to them. The pokémon games that will be coming from this tournament are supposed to be more serious minded, and in the end, it will be us who helps to influence the final story line."

"By the way, I heard this was going to be a tag-team battle, is that true?" I asked as Julien simply gave a chuckle, and moved his hand underneath my chin.

"That is correct, _ma Cherie,_"he said, as I gave him a frustrated look.

"I sincerely hope that this guy is mistaking me for a girl," I said as Brett nodded, making Julien widen his eyes, and instantly recoil back, trying to recompose himself after his face was covered in the red tint of blush. "I wouldn't let it get to you too much, it's been a part of my life for as long as I can remember."

"Then have you ever…?" Julien started asking as I quickly shook my head negatively. "Anyway, it is correct that the first part of this tournament will be a tag team based tournament. When we get to the hotel, all of the participants will be contacted by the tournament staff, and given their partners for the next part of this tournament."

The rest of the car trip to the hotel was left mostly just talking with Julien about himself, and from what I learned simply from talking to him, he was one of the shy kids in the past, which didn't come into my mind from my original experience with him. He said that like most people, he used the pokémon games as an outlet for some of his frustrations he didn't want to deal with directly in his life. The only other thing that we learned of him that I thought was actually worth knowing was that he was the tournament player that was going to be using the grass element.

* * *

As we pulled into the valet stand at the hotel, I'll say this much, I was definitely feeling out of place, despite both of my parents coming from money, and I knew they had stayed in places like this in their early lives. The only thing that made this different for me was that it was actually going to be me staying in this fancy place, and that in the end, I was going to know exactly how both my mother and father lived as younger children, and to be honest, it made me nervous if I was actually going to become like those nutcases. As we moved into the main lobby, Julien directed us to the main lobby, there were only a couple of other competitors that bothered to stay around to meet with us.

"May I introduce the representatives of Germany, Trinity Johnson, and Alexander Castiel," Julien said as both reps came up and shook all of their hands.

* * *

Trinity was probably about the same age as me and Naoko, with the same general build that both of us shared, standing at the same height as Naoko, with maybe the same kind of body type of a dancer, you know, sorta lithe. Her hair was a brilliant red color, rolling off her shoulders, and around her blue eyes, devoid of most emotion in them, with neon yellow highlights embedded into just about every other strand. Her skin tone was more of an ivory color, giving her that sort of regal appearance to her face, but also the childish feature of the freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose helped to balance that out. Given her overall size, she seemed to be wearing fairly appropriate attire given the temperature, a long, spacious button-down sweater that rested over the top of a gray v-neck shirt, a pair of gray cargo pants, and a pair of black boots that obviously were lined with fur.

* * *

The other rep from Germany, Alexander, while sharing my name, was the furthest thing from my overall appearance there could be. While we both were fairly thin for our body type, Alexander was taller, almost as tall as Brett, but shorter by barely a few centimeters. His hair was unkempt, brown, and fell over his face in a mess, added with his pale skin was probably the closest any of us were to a stereotypical gamer. The thing that set him apart, though, was that his eyes were definitely, and obviously of two colors; the right was a regular brown color, matching the shade of his hair, and the second was a pitch black color, making the differentiation between the iris and pupil almost non-existent. What was more, or equally, as interesting to me was the wardrobe he boasted, but more specifically his jacket; a hooded, black jacket with a family crest on the right side of his chest, a pair of blue slacks, reaching down past the tops of his black boots, and around his neck was an unwrapped red scarf, most likely being used to keep himself from getting too cold given his build.

* * *

"And as the other two joining us, one representative from England, Stuart Wakahisa, and secondary French rep, Louise Castillo," Julien introduced as the final two shook our hands, and sat back down.

* * *

Stuart wasn't really one of those people you could get a read on; he was taller than most of us here, save for Alexander and Brett, standing around six feet. I could tell that from the similar look in his eyes that I did in my own, Stuart was part Japanese heritage, granted his eyes were a bold topaz color as opposed to mine being a gray color, given I was from Russia. His build suggested he didn't invest much time in physical activity, but was capable should the situation arise, and was fairly pale in skin tone. His hair was an onyx black color, mostly smoothed out, but fringed slightly as it reached to the back of his head. Despite his overall slim build, Stuart's wardrobe probably helped little with the temperature, consisting, from what I saw, of a gray turtle neck sweater, a pair of large tan slacks, and thick brown leather shoes.

* * *

Louise, however, was someone more of note, but maybe it had more to do with the fact that, like me, I wouldn't have known she was a girl without knowing her name. It seemed as though she was neither male or female dominantly, boasting several masculine features along her face, with pronounced cheekbones, older appearance, and other parts of her visage. She stood around the same height as Julien, taller by about an inch, and her build suggested the same as her face, her chest being more masculine in appearance, having a more rectangular shape, but her arms having a more slender appearance to them. Her hair was a pale blonde color, curled, and short as compared to the other girls in the room, and to me, and reaching far above her almond shaped, dark green eyes. Her eyes and lips, in fact, were probably the most feminine part about her face. Unlike most with a more masculine appearance, she wore a long woolen dress that reached down to her knees, blue at the cuffs and collar, and a dryer shade of green, with a pair of black leggings underneath barely visible given the pair of long high heel boots, adding on an extra two inches, which is probably where she got the extra height to be taller than Julien.

* * *

"I've already asked the other reps to be here, but they've declined my invitation," Julien said, as he took a seat directly next to Louise. "So, the other reps will be informed of their partners after they are chosen," he said turning on a monitor above nine of us, making us all turn our attention to the screen, where eight virtual cards were placed side by side with another row of the same amount. "The elements that we represent were chosen by these cards randomly, and by a shuffle of each row, your partner will be determined by the card your element is represented by," he said, handing all of us a small sheet, acting as a key to how each element worked.

"_Ace of Diamonds: Dark, Ace of Spades: Flying, Ace of Hearts: Ice, Ace of Clubs: Rock, King of Diamonds: Normal, King of Spades: Fire, King of Hearts: Poison, King of Clubs: Ground, Queen of Diamonds: Steel, Queen of Spades: Fighting, Queen of Hearts: Grass, Queen of Clubs: Ghost, Jack of Diamonds: Water, Jack of Spades: Bug, Jack of Hearts: Electric, and Jack of Clubs: Psychic," _I said to myself, trying to put them all to memory, almost wanting to cry out of pity at the irony of my element being represented by a Queen.

"And now, let's start the shuffle!" Julien said, flipping a switch on the remote for the TV screen, flipping each of the cards over to reveal who the pairs would consist of. "So, for the teams we will have trainers of Ground and Ghost, Mick Addison and Elena Sanchez, trainers of Fire and Ice, Luo Sun and Meixiang Fong, trainers of Water and Rock, Brett Kuso and Akiraka Kizuna," he said as both of the Japanese reps gave each other a hesitant look. "Trainers of Normal and Dark, Stuart Wakahisa and Louise Castillo, trainers of Psychic and Steel, Alexander Castiel and Naoko Kato, trainers of Flying and Bug, Leon Ryder and Trinity Johnson, trainers of Fighting and Electric, Alexander Takebana and Marisol Torres, and finally, trainers of Grass and Poison, myself, Julien Durand, and Sorrel Devlin. There are you partners, reconvene with them, whoever is here, and we will meet later tonight for the tournament itinerary."

"_Marisol Torres,"_ I said to myself as I just stared at the screen. _"The way this tournament is set up, I won't be able to fight Brett again until the final round. I promised him that when we battled again that it would be a true battle between us. Hopefully this person, Marisol is willing to give me that opportunity."_

* * *

Cast:

Alexander "Sasha" Takebana (Fighting): Gallade (Gamma), Conkeldurr (Sigma), Hariyama (Alpha), Emboar (Theta), other Pokémon TBA. NightFall00

Brett Kuso (Water): Samurott, Gyarados, Quagsire, Poliwrath, other Pokémon TBA. AshKetchumDarkSide

Naoko Kato (Steel): Scizor (Kana), other Pokémon TBA. Cyanide the Sneasel

Akiraka "Aspen" Kizuna (Rock): Tyranitar, Gigalith, other Pokémon TBA. Crossroader62

Julien Durand (Grass): Pokémon TBA. KingOfStories01

Trinity Johnson (Bug): Pokémon TBA. Lady Island Rose

Alexander "Aruku" Ruvaku Castiel (Psychic): Pokémon TBA. ZxZ Fic Hunter

Stuart Wakahisa (Normal): Pokémon TBA. Moth's Aflame

Louise Castillo (Dark): Pokémon TBA. Detonator Liberation

Mick Addison (Ground): Pokémon TBA. CodyOnTheBounce T.V.

Elena Esperanza Sanchez (Ghost): Pokémon TBA. PhatomStorm and DrummerGirl

Luo Sun (Fire): Pokémon TBA. DayBreak99

Meixiang "Roxanne" Fong (Ice): Pokémon TBA. thesecretkeeper11

Leon Ryder (Flying): Pokémon TBA. Jexo

Marisol Torres (Electric): Pokémon TBA.

Sorrel Devlin (Poison): Pokémon TBA. Ariesbird

* * *

Notes:

Onion Domes: A common sight near Russian cathedrals is what's known as the Onion Dome. Styled in the shape of the vegetable that most of us love to hate, the actual reason for these oddly shaped domes has been a mystery to many people. Originally thought to be made in the shape of a burning candle, one historian said, in 1917, there is no way to properly explain the reasoning behind the domes themselves. When Sasha referenced the golden onion dome, it was reference to Ivan the Great Bell Tower, and the golden onion domes there.

Names for Parents in Russia: Obviously this isn't something that is thought of often, but the implications behind this are fairly interesting. The words for mother and father, literally, aren't used to address members of your own family, even when speaking in third person. When one of my teacher's students went to Russia, he noted how many people love their mothers, because the word for it was used everywhere. Unbeknownst to him, the word for mother, when pronounced without softening the "t" sound at the end, is actually a Russian swear word (mat!).

Cab Fare: In Russia, cab fare really is more dependent on the taxi company itself. Typically speaking, the average taxi ride will cost a person 115-175 rubles for the first half hour, and then an extra 4-6 rubles per minute. So from that, we can assume that it took about an hour to get from the airport to the motel.

Katana vs. Nihonto: This wasn't really talked about in the chapter, but it is something to be known for those of you who always call your Japanese katanas just that, a katana. "Katana" is actually the literal Japanese word for sword, and not for the style of sword. When written with the Kanji for Japan, it reads "Nihonto" or Japanese sword. Essentially, you can use katana to reference any kind of sword, and nihonto, purely for swords in Japanese culture.

Julien's Introduction: French, like all Romance languages is built on it grammar, and having much of its words be translated very loosely. When Julien introduces himself, he says, "Je m'appele Julien Durand," which literally translates to, "I, myself, call, Julien Durand," or "I call myself Julien Durand," and the most dumbed down version, "My name is Julien Durand." Much of how French is spoken is taken far into colloquialism, so as not to confuse any other person learning with the literal, and I mean literal translation.

* * *

Chapter two complete. Why must I be such a perfectionist, and make the chapters so long!? Well, hopefully, you all enjoy my chapters at this length, and hope you guys like the bit of mystery slowly being added on to the story. So for those of you who had a hard time reading through Julien's declaration of the teams, there will be a chart below for reference, but until then, ja nee.

* * *

Tournament Tag Teams:

Mick Addison (Ground) & Elena Sanchez (Ghost)

Luo Sun (Fire) & Meixiang Fong (Ice)

Brett Kuso (Water) & Akiraka Kizuna (Rock)

Stuart Wakahisa (Normal) & Louise Castillo (Dark)

Alexander Castiel (Psychic) & Naoko Kato (Steel)

Leon Ryder (Flying) & Trinity Johnson (Bug)

Sasha Takebana (Fighting) & Marisol Torres (Electric)

Julien Durand (Grass) & Sorrel Devlin (Poison)


	4. Nostalgia

So, I'm back with the next installment of VGC, and I must say that this story is really starting to get good, if I do say so myself. Obviously you guys know me to be someone that takes pride in my work, but can sometimes take it too seriously. That's generally why I don't come out with chapters for my stories for long increments of time, and that they're always so much longer as compared to other stories. To be honest, when I started out doing fanfics, I thought two thousand was a good word count, and then I started going to three thousand, and then four, and for the later chapters of one of my stories I figured five thousand was phenomenal. Then I wrote a story that may not have lasted too long, and it turns out that that particular chapter had seven thousand words. Working through Checkmate quickly got me up to the ten thousand mark, and now I'm averaging, with this story and a three thousand word prologue, a little over nine thousand words. Makes you think as to how much I've improved over the last two years. My personal narrative, however, can wait, and now we get back into what you all came for.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Nostalgia

Have you ever had a kind of person you just instantly connected with? The kind of person that when you saw them, whether in media, real life, or whatever, you wanted to learn more about them? Specific characters in a story always speak to people in different ways; a character who is an outcast may appeal more to somebody than the main character, a character who is more comical, but has the strength to move on may give that sort of feeling to another. The same in real life, people say that no two are completely alike, and this is partially true, in that no two people have the same finger print, same exact personality, or a whole mess of others things that make us unique. But, not to sound too much like a nerd, the aura that people tend to give off can often have the same feeling, but it's really hard to find when you go through life. It's true that no two people can be alike, but the feeling they give off can quickly become the same as the one you truly wish to see.

* * *

My mind was a veritable mess of different emotions rushing through my head as I walked through the hallway of the hotel, trying to find my partner's room. Truth be told, I wasn't sure what I should've been feeling; fortunate for being able to leave Natsumi, scared because I knew a bunch of stalkers were after me, skeptical of the randomness of that selection, or nervous about meeting this girl, Marisol. Based on her last name, I could tell she was probably of Spanish descent, but then again, Stuart's last name is Wakahisa, so I couldn't exactly be too sure of what I'd expect to see. As I reached the tenth floor of the high rise building, I walked back down the hallway, trying to find Marisol's room, and then more questions began to pop into my head. Why did they choose those specific elements to be in each row? Why did they choose our elements by playing cards? Why did mine have to be Queen (probably not as pertinent)? But more than that, why does it seem like someone keeps breathing down my neck?

As I turned around, I found myself alone in the hallway, and left with my own paranoia. Maybe it was the thought of an actual group of people waiting to come after me. Or maybe it had more to do with that fact that I may have actually been scared going to somewhere where I didn't know the language, granted that left out about only two countries, and then everywhere else that speaks English dominantly. I let out a heavy breath, and turned back around, trying to bring my thoughts back about this girl Marisol. The card that symbolized her element was the Jack of Hearts, which was used for electric type pokémon, and that kind of took the edge off when it came to battle a bunch of flying types, but psychic and ghost were still sure to vex me. I began thinking about how I would be of any help to her, though; fighting only defeats rock, steel, normal, dark, and ice based on super effective damage. Electric is only weak to Ground types, and even then, still can help with that fact by use of an Eelektross, or Magnezone with a Magnet Rise attack. Was I going to be nothing more than dead weight to this girl?

I reached the end of the hall, where I found Marisol's hotel room, and hesitantly knocked on the door. I listened at the door, and heard a series of footsteps approaching. I nodded, and removed my head from the door, waiting for it to open, finding there was a pause. I figured that if she was inside, she was either making sure she was decent, or just making sure of whom I was through the peephole. I shrugged my shoulders, and took a seat with my back against the door, figuring it would probably take a while.

"Maybe she's not convinced I'm even the same kid she's waiting for," I said, stretching out my back, leaning back against the door.

As I fell back against cold metal, I found myself lying completely flat against the floor, in between both the hallway and room. I looked up from where I was lying, and found myself already face to face with a girl, probably about seventeen, as she stared down at me with her finger outstretched and poking my cheek.

"You Marisol Torres?" I asked as she gave a light chuckle before standing up, and helping me to my feet. "I'll take that as a yes," I said, able to see her more fully, and was quite surprised by what I saw.

* * *

By anyone's standards, she was beautiful, and from the pride she took in my asking her name, she was definitely aware of it. Her body was fairly slender, almost rivaling Natsumi's when she was seventeen, with the same kind of development. Based on where I stood, she was about five foot seven, five foot eight, leveling out in between there, with a tanned complexion to her skin that, if I was correct, was more hereditary than of a natural tan. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown color, travelling down to her mid back in large, loosely styled curls, which seemed to make up for the fact that her eyes, unlike the rest of her, were actually fairly normal in a regular brown color. Based on her wardrobe, I made the assumption, not sure if it was right or not, that she was from the upper crust, wearing a long, white sweater dress reaching to her knees, the rest of her legs covered by a pair of black tights, also wearing a pair of black boots, reaching to her ankles.

* * *

Marisol wasn't like I had expected, but in all fairness, Julien and Louise both gave me a bit to think about when it came to making assumptions too early on. As she sat down on her bed, she looked at me and held out her hand towards the other bed adjacent to hers. I took her up on her offer, and sat down as she instantly stood up and looked all around me, jumping on the same bed as me, and rolling her hands on my shoulders from behind.

"Um," I started as Marisol gave me another kind smile. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to see if you're really a boy," she answered plainly, running her fingers through my hair. "You know, without being too inappropriate," she added as I already knew as to what she was talking about. "Although, it looks like I hit the jackpot, because I get the cutest guy in this tournament for my partner."

"Out of curiosity, and this is more my paranoia talking," I said, as I tried to fix my hair after she finished playing with it. "How did you know I would be a guy?"

"It's how the tag team is set up," she answered, showing me a screen towards the back of the room. "The two rows of playing cards were set up so that the elements used on the right side were all for guys and the ones on the left were for girls," she explained. One mystery solved; about five hundred more to go.

"Well, I guess it's nice to have somebody who knows I'm a guy without me having to tell them," I said. "But you wouldn't have known if the cards hadn't shown you, huh?" I asked as she just shook her head, running her hands down my sides. "Whoa! Now what're you doing?" I asked, instantly jumping from the bed.

"Seeing if one of my dresses would fit you," she said, holding up another sweater dress as I froze in position, and quickly did a basic analysis of Marisol.

She's a bubbly personality, not quite to the point of Naoko. She's overly blunt, she doesn't hold back, and now she has a desire to put me in girl's clothing. She a good looking girl, kind of overly developed with a slender build, long hair, maybe if it were straightened and darker. Yep…she's just like my sister.

"Look, I've dealt with being cross-dressed for six years," I said, backing away from her. "And I'm about up to here with it," I said, holding my hand up to the point of my neck.

"Then you should be able to take a little more," she said, jumping from the bed, and landing directly on top of me. "Come on, it won't be that bad. It's not like I'm going to put this online or anything."

"Well, it's a plus," I said, still trying to struggle from underneath her.

My struggling was, in the end, in vain. Marisol had managed to put me in her sweater dress, and had me seated in a chair in front of a large ovular mirror with several different makeup supplies. She held me down from the shoulders, and began snickering as she tied up my hair in long ribbons, styling it in two large pigtails, and then moved straight to the makeup products. I cringed at the feeling of the blush coming over my face as Marisol applied different kinds of products to my face that I'm pretty sure Natsumi hadn't even heard of. After she finished she made me look at myself in the mirror as my eyes shifted to Marisol, whose eyes were the same as Natsumi's after she had had some of her fun with me. I looked down from the mirror as the look from Marisol's face reminded me of another face that sent a shiver up my spine.

"Aww, you look so cute like this," she said, as I was left frozen in shock at how I looked. "Maybe I will take a picture," she said, grabbing her cell phone, and aiming it directly towards my profile.

As she lined up the picture, she looked into her camera, and saw something shimmer as it fell from my face. She looked up and found that, while I was making no sound, nor any other form of complaint, that there were, indeed, tears falling from my face. She lowered her phone, and gave a look of regret as she reached out for the ribbons, and released my hair, already going to work to wipe off every last bit of makeup she painted on me.

"I'm sorry, Sasha," she said as I nodded, taking off her dress, still wearing my own clothes underneath. "When you said you had had it up to a certain point, I didn't know how far I was taking it. Was your sister really that mean to you?"

"What my sister does is tame compared to what someone else tried to do," I said, shaking my hair loose. "Being cross dressed doesn't bother me as much as I let on, but what bothers me is when people don't even bother to ask about how it makes me feel. All the times me sister made me dress in her old junior high uniform, I can handle. Sure it made me feel as though I was nothing more than a toy to her, but given how she always tries to make it better afterwards, that's what made it tolerable."

"Someone else?" Marisol asked, repeating my own words. "Who was that?"

"Nobody that I'm concerned about anymore," I said, sitting back down on the second bed. "So, I guess that we should start talking strategy with this tournament. What do you say?"

"I say that if we just talk about it, it won't exactly give us much of an edge," Marisol said, hanging up the dress in her closet. "We don't know who we'll be up against, what kind of pokémon they use, and we also have no idea in what combination some of their pokémon will have in their elements."

"And here I thought it was my job to be overly critical and basically depressing," I said, lying down on the bed fully. "I never said that being a team would be easy, but the whole thing about you taking the edge of with the flying type situation does put me a bit more at ease. My only concern is that I'm not going to be much help to you in this whole endeavor," I said as Marisol nodded, knowing full well what I meant with the obvious, and fairly common weakness to ground attacks.

"You use fighting types, right?" she asked as I nodded. "You use Hitmonchan, or anything like that?" she asked as I shook my head. "Shoot, I was hoping you had a pokémon that knew Ice Punch or something like that. Did you make use of any of the move tutors while you were playing the game? I know that I had to find a way around ground type trainers which made up about forty percent of the NPCs in my version."

"Same here with the psychic and flying trainers," I said. "The only times I ever found it more necessary to use Ice Punch was when it came to Gligar and Gliscor. The four times weakness to ice help to make short work of ground types in their entirety. The only problem with that is that the only pokémon I use that does know ice punch isn't what you would exactly call a very fast pokémon."

"We may not need fast as much as the bulk to be able to take a ground attack," Marisol contemplated. "What pokémon is it that knows the Ice Punch?"

"Uh, that would be my Scrafty, Omega," I answered as the species of my pokémon gave Marisol a small smile. "Scrafty's two highest stats are its defense and special defense stat with the attack stat coming up in second," I remembered. "Even still, though, like you said, there's no guarantee that we will battle the ground trainer, and in that case, the only use for Omega's Ice Punch would be against grass or flying types, and I have other rock moves for flying types, along with my Emboar for grass types."

"So, in other words, unless we actually have to battle the ground trainer, Scrafty may not be needed for this tournament, and maybe more as a singularity," Marisol said, sitting down next to her computer. "The tournament officials haven't sent us any form of bracket yet, so we can assume that we'll have to be ready for any of the two element combinations that were achieved by the pairs made by the random shuffle."

"Let's see," I said reading the teams over Marisol's shoulder. "Ground and ghost, fire and ice, water and rock, normal and dark, psychic and steel, flying and bug, and then grass and poison. A couple of these shouldn't be so much of a problem, but that all depends really on how the bracket is set up. We'll probably have to talk more about this after I get my stuff all settled into my room. I'll see you later," I said walking out of the room as Marisol simply waved goodbye without facing me.

* * *

Outside in the hallway, my cheeks were still a little red from what happened earlier with her, and I found myself, for the first time, without a thought on the matter. The entire ordeal just confused me to no end; the idea that I finally was able to escape my sister, and now I find that an entire group of internet friends are all after me, and now the girl that's supposed to be my partner for the next week finds me to be perfect for the same thing that everyone else thinks, but also is willing to do it. I walked back towards the elevator, and entered the cart, trying to make sense of everything that was happening around me, and wondered how the other people I met so far were coping with their current partners. The one I was most worried about was the pairing of Akiraka and Brett. Since having been introduced, both have seemed to be odds with each other, especially after the night at Moscow.

I walked by Brett's room, to see maybe if he and Akiraka were together yet, and as I placed my ear next to the door, I could hear the faint sounds of conversation in the interior, but nothing that was easy to make out. As I was trying to listen in, I was quickly tapped on the shoulder, making me turn around quickly, but instantly relax when I found myself, well not really, facing one of the two representatives from England, Stuart Wakahisa. It was the first I had seen of him since meeting him in the lobby, and based on the aura he had around him, it was serene, or the kind that you just couldn't be afraid.

* * *

"So what's on your mind, kid?" he asked, a soda can falling from the vending machine down in the main lobby of the hotel. "I already know about your situation with the stalker group. For a kid like you, it must be a little scary."

"Not as much as you would actually think," I said reassuringly. "Ever since my sister's hobby started up, it was just sort of something that attracted all kinds of people. Everyone from your social butterfly, to your internet gaming nerd has seen those photos my sister takes, and has some kind of way of commenting on them. I've dealt with all kinds of people; stalkers, doubters of my gender, heck, my sister's had to deal with social services once or twice for photographing a minor in the way she did. I know this may sound weird coming from me, but I know how to deal with every kind of personality."

"You know what makes each person tick, huh?" Stuart asked. "I guess everyone else here has their own unique trait. Some of us more than others," he added on, looking at me from top to bottom. "I heard that Marisol Torres, from Spain, is actually a fairly well known amateur dancer. I think I read an article online about her because of the tournament, and one of the featured competitors was her because of that background."

"How many people had profiles done on them?" I asked, already knowing that I wasn't one of them. "If I had known they had something like that available, I would have used it to get to know some of the competitors beforehand."

"It probably wouldn't have helped," Stuart said. "A lot of people are different from their regular lives to their gaming lives," he said, typing at his laptop as quick as he could, which, by my standards, was blinding. "They did profiles on Marisol, Brett Kuso, myself, Alexander Castiel, Luo Sun, Meixiang Fong, Louise Castillo, and I think you."

"Me?" I asked, taking the laptop from him, clicking on the link to the profile they supposedly did of me, quickly scrolling through it. "They never talked to me about this, nor did they have me sign a waiver. There's no way this can be legal."

"Well, because we're minors, they had to have the waivers for the profiles signed by our legal guardians," Stuart explained. "You should probably ask your parents about it."

"Natsumi-nee…" I said ominously, as I walked over to the front desk, and requested a phone. After dialing the number for my sister's cell phone, I waited for several seconds before I heard the phone pickup, and the cheerful greeting of my sister. "Natsumi-nee! Did you sign a waiver for the tournament officials to do a profile on me?"

"Ara, was that what that was?" she asked on the other end of line, I could tell, feigning innocence on the matter. "I thought it was just regular, college paperwork. You know I never read that stuff completely."

"Don't give me that!" I shouted. "Why would you do that? I thought you _didn't_ want people to know where I was. Do you know that because of that prologue, there is now an entire group of stalkers out after me, and they probably know where I am because of this profile?"

"Have they actually done anything?" Natsumi asked, still trying to justify her actions. "Besides, I think people should get to see you as you really are once in a while."

"They almost put me in a coma last night in Moscow," I said flatly as I could hear nothing but dead silence on the other end of the line. "Natsumi-nee? You still there?" I asked, suddenly hearing a loud shriek from the other end.

"They tried to kill you!?" she asked hysterically. "I knew that you shouldn't be doing this, it's too dangerous. Why would they even want to hurt you?"

"You know, Natsumi-nee," I started, trying to bring the conversation back to its original calm beginning. Although the way she was acting now might not have been too far off. "Part of it is because you do that to me every night, and it's all online, and easily accessible."

"I'll take them all off, maybe that'll keep them away," Natsumi suggested as I heaved out a large breath.

"That'll only make it worse," I said, already imagining the look of confusion on her face. "Stalkers begin as just watching the object of their affections; taking pictures, finding things they leave behind, and taking whatever they can to feel as though they have some kind of connection between them and the subject. From there, it becomes a game to them that escalates to them hanging around the subject, even against the other person's wishes. After that comes a restraining order, and then full blown crimes. Taking away the basic root of their affection would only make them move faster. Besides, Naoko's looking at some of the comments on some of the pictures you took for any kind of flags being raised there."

"I still don't like her, how do we know that she's not the one who attacked you?" Natsumi asked. "She saw the pictures, she's with you all the time, she still registers as creepy in my book."

"Natsumi, if our mother wasn't related to me, you'd be suspicious of her too," I said, trying to make my sister realize that once again she had gone off the deep end. "You're going to have to understand that not every girl we meet looks at me like I'm some sort of toy like you do. I'll talk to you later. I just hope you didn't say anything weird about me for the profile, or anything about _that_," I said, alerting Stuart's attention.

"I would never," Natsumi said, I could still detect a feint amount of manufactured innocence, but she sounded sincere. "Ja nee!" she said cheerfully into the speaker, hanging up the phone.

I returned to where Stuart was seated, and saw him scrolling down one of the profiles as quick as any other person, gaining the major details as fast as he could. I gave a small smirk that he noticed out of the corner of his eye, prompting him to closing the lid of his computer, and look at me directly.

"Whatever you didn't want your sister to leak may or may not be on that profile of yours, and even if it was you aren't about to tell me what it is, are you?" he asked as I shook my head. "I figured as much. The ones who are going to win this game, are the ones with the best poker faces, my friend," he said, picking up his laptop, and walking back through the interior of the hotel. "And you are one of them."

* * *

Seeing as my mind had definitely wandered far off the path of focused, I had almost forgotten what I was originally trying to do before. I made another attempt to see how Brett and Akiraka were, seeing as the tension between them hadn't really been relieved at all, and as I made my way down the hallway of the floor for their room, the same feeling that somebody was breathing down my neck came over me.

"This is beginning to get ridiculous," I said to myself, trying to shake the feeling, but suddenly found myself walking back out of the area as though I shouldn't have been there. "Why does this little voice keep telling me that I need to go back?" I asked.

See, for as long as I can remember, I've been one of those people with, what others call, "a little voice." You know, sort of that premonition or feeling about something that makes you think about the real path you should take. It's nothing too special or outlandish, just a little feeling in the back of my head that told me when something didn't feel right. Trust me, though, when it comes to Natsumi's hobby, my little voice doesn't just speak to me, but screams at me.

In this case, my voice wasn't just screaming at me, but was more speaking as clearly as a public speaker in a college classroom. It said that I had spent too much time away from my own room, and that if someone were to start looking for me, it would be at a time when there was nobody, including me around. This group of stalkers was obviously more than one person, each with their own thoughts of how to go about going after me. In this case, there was the one who had escalated to violent behavior, another who was content so far with just watching, and probably a whole mess of other people who had their own plans for me.

I ran to the door to my hotel room, wrenching it open the second the card key flashed green, and looked inside, not sure whether to feel terrified or expectant of the state. Everything in my room was turned over, from the bed, to the lounge chair; my bag was turned inside out, most of my clothes thrown throughout the room, and much of them slashed. The only things untouched in the room were my computer, game system, and from the looks of it a worn pair of pajamas I figured Natsumi had put in there, hopeful.

"We found it like this," somebody said from behind as I turned around to see both Akiraka and Brett standing there. "They were probably looking for mementoes of their subject," Brett began speculating. "We called the police a bit ago, and they should be here within a few minutes. Is there anything in particular missing, or anything out of the ordinary?"

"Besides the obvious," Akiraka asked as I walked towards my bag, and began searching through it. "My question is why they would slash everything besides those old pajamas," she asked as I let out a chuckle.

"They're the same ones my sister put me in for the picture that sparked all of this," I explained. "They want me to wear them so the game between them and me stays and alive, and proves that I'm aware of what they want."

"Yet they didn't break your computer, game, or this thing," Brett said, holding a two piece rod with a screw thread in the top half. "Is this a pool cue?"

"That it is," I answered, screwing the two pieces of the pool stick together, the final result being a long sixty inch rod. "Back at my sister's college, all of the dorm buildings have individual billiard rooms, but the cues there break easily, so she got me this one. It helps to vent my frustrations."

"My question is why they wouldn't get rid of the distractions that keep you from noticing them," Brett said, trying to figure out the method to their madness. "These girls are all about making you into the single picture they see on the internet, why would let you keep these things?"

"Because they know who got them for me," I explained. "Everything I own that I keep with me at all times are the things that my sister gave me, and they know that my sister is the reason that they can look at me in that way. My parents don't know that I even have a computer or even an email for that matter, I had to tell them about the pokémon tournament, and neither of them have noticed the fact that I always practice my pool breaks at home when we don't even have a pool table. What can I say? They're just not involved in either of our lives; it amazes me that they even remember that I'm their son," I said, unscrewing my pool cue, and placing it a long black case.

"Do you resent them for that?" Akiraka asked as I let out another smirk.

"No," I answered. "I could never resent them, but that's beside the point. We should probably meet the police," I said, walking out of the room, my computer, game, and pool cue all in a side hanging bag.

As I walked out of the room, Brett and Akiraka watched me with eyes that both showed off their own separate emotions; Akiraka of concern for me, and Brett of disbelief. As Akiraka walked down the hall towards where I was, she turned around to see Brett staring into the room I was supposed to be staying in, and then back to me before walking up to his new partner.

"He's lying to us," he said bluntly as Akiraka looked at him with a confused look. "That calm demeanor he had while trying to work through the basic ideas of this whole problem he's having is nothing but a lie. Sasha's still a normal kid, and I can tell that right now," he started as ahead of them, my eyes were wide with shock, and my entire body was shivering. "He's terrified."

* * *

As Louise and Julien spoke to the police officer about everything that Brett, Akiraka, and I had told them, my mind was shaking along with the rest of my body in sheer terror about what they had just done. Not only had I been attacked in Moscow, but now somebody ransacked my room, and I had always been receiving comments about the pictures of girls saying they were going to find me. Everything happening at once not only made my head hurt, but that little voice in my head just kept shouting at me, intent on making me listen. It said to me that everything that was happening was partially to blame because of the tournament, and not the pictures, but that still didn't make any sense to me.

"_Merci, gendarme," _Julien said as the man tipped his hat, and the two reps from France walked up to us, and saw me in the psychological state that I was. "You okay, Sasha?" Julien asked as I slowly nodded.

"Just a few things I need to work out," I lied as Louise looked down at me, fitting on a pair of square glasses, and reading through a note made by the police.

"'After having heard of the damage made by the forced searching of his hotel room, we of the _Police Nationale_, have determined that due to the obvious threat made against him, Alexander Takebana is to remain with a guardian at all times, until which time we can ensure his safety,'" she said, heaving out a sigh while taking off the glasses. "Looks like you're in hot water for a while, kid. Not my problem, though," she said as she walked back through the main lobby, into the elevator.

"Well isn't she just pleasant," I noted, reading through the note. "So I just have to make sure that somebody's watching me twenty four seven? How in the heck am I gonna pull that off, pray tell? Just move in with my tag-team partner?" I asked jokingly as Julien cocked one of his eyebrows, receiving a worried look from me. "_Prokpyatiye!"_ I said under my breath as I fit my bag over my shoulder, and walked towards the room this whole mess kinda started in.

* * *

It seemed as though Marisol had already caught wind of the situation, and already had the second bed in the room already made up for me. By this time, between everything happening with the stalking group, the tournament itself, and that profile they made on me for the tournament, my head was about fried, and it was by a minor miracle that she left me alone in the room for a while. I just laid down in the bed, feeling relatively safe seeing as if they wanted to come and get me, they had to either break through a door that was nearly six inches thick, or scale a five story climb to a reinforced glass window. Truth be told, though, seeing as they were able to break in through the window beforehand, I had my doubts about my overall safety.

I sat up in the bed, and reached into my bag for my laptop; quickly going to the tournament's website to try and shed some light on the situation with the profiles. To me, though, it seemed weird that they only focused on half of the competitors rather than the entirety. Were the other people just that boring to read about, or was there something about all of us that just made us more interesting by comparison? At any rate, I found the profiles, and found that there were profiles for the other eight competitors, but it was just there name, age, pokémon element, and where they were from. I found the link to my profile and began reading through it in passing, just trying to get the basic point of what they had published about me.

"Alexander Takebana, otherwise known by his older sister as Sasha, was born and raised for the majority of his life in Moscow, Russia, but periodically will stay with said older sister in Hokkaido, making him fluent in three languages, much like one of the competitors," I read aloud, trying to figure out that last bit. "Excelling in academics, Sasha is known for his effeminate appearance, and has his own series of pictures on the internet for free viewing on his sister's homepage," I continued, falling back on the bed at the reading that was given just in front of me.

The thought that Natsumi's habit wasn't as private as I had originally hoped in this case disheartened me indefinitely, and it made me just turn away from the rest of the profile, praying that they hadn't gone any further than that into my personal life. My mind wandered as I tried to find other profiles to read, just to get an idea as to what I was dealing with, and the first one to catch my eye was Stuart's. I shrugged my shoulders, and clicked on the link where a curious picture of Stuart popped up; where it showed him and at least six other people, all with shirts with single letters.

"Stuart Wakahisa, born in Tokyo originally, but was moved to London fairly young is often credited as being the youngest person alive to be able to hack into one of the world's strongest supercomputers, breaching seventeen different firewalls in record time as a precaution for security," I read, remembering how fast Stuart had been while typing at his computer, and how worn out some of the keys had been from continual pressure. "Stuart has since been given multiple offers from different companies to beta-test different games in order to find any bugs in the programming, with the group of friends they've established as 'X-Ploits,'" I continued, noticed the same letters on each of the members' shirts, spelling the name.

I exited the website, and fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles in the ceiling in me head just to prove to myself how bored I was. _"So, let's go through this so far; we got a guy who looks more like a girl, a guy who's trained in probably every kind of swordplay out there, a credited dancer from Spain, and now a super hacker who could probably break into the computers at the CERN Super-Collider. Is anyone here going to be at least normal in any way, shape, or form?"_ I asked, suddenly hearing a loud rapping on the door.

I cautiously walked to the door, and tried to jump up to see through the peephole, but as usual, found myself unable. I walked back to my stuff, and screwed together my pool cue, fully ready to use it as a weapon. I quickly opened the door, and found myself, instead, staring at Naoko and her partner, if I could remember his name, Alexander Castiel in my door. I looked back up, and found that Naoko was shorter than the peephole, and that Alexander was positioned away from it, so I tried to tell myself it was either my fault for being short, Naoko's for the same reason, or Alexander's for not standing in the right place.

"Can we come in?" Naoko asked, looking up at the two piece rod that I quickly took back apart.

"Yeah, sure," I said, trying to keep myself from looking any more stupid than I already was. "So, I take it your being here is about anything you've found out?"

"Basically," Naoko answered. "A few of these were some pretty big flags. I probably wouldn't have found them if Aruku-kun hadn't helped me," she said, smiling at Alexander, who turned away, trying to find a way to keep from talking.

"Doesn't talk much, does he?" I asked, Naoko nodding in agreement. "Besides, 'Aruku?'" I asked. "Bad enough we got my nickname, Akiraka's, and now this guy's."

"No need to be snippy," Naoko said, pulling up the picture of me sleeping, making _me_ turn away so I didn't have to look at it, and from Alexander's expression, he probably had seen it too like a lot of guys had. "Anyway, there's this one user, and they always say the same thing at the end of each post, no matter what kind of post they're making," she said, pointing down at one of the posts. "Sasha Takebana will always be mine," she read aloud as I looked at her with an expectant look in my eye.

"You needed help to find _that_ one?" I asked as Naoko puffed out her cheeks.

"That's not the one that Aruku-kun helped me find," she said, scrolling down through the page. "Take a look at this one," she said, as I looked down at the post, and it sure set off a flag in my book. "I was so close…" she read. "This is probably the one that attacked you. And then there's this one, a completely different person, fifteen seconds later. 'There's always Paris.' They know where you are, Sasha-kun."

"The worst part is about all of this," I started, scrolling through the other comments. "This post was made just about ten hours ago when we landed in France after Moscow. Nobody knew about where we were going unless they were looking for me specifically."

"How would they know where to find you, though?" Naoko asked, looking down at the posts for the photo.

"T-They probably read the profiles," Alexander said from the corner of the room, giving both of us a mere sideways glance. "T-They talked about where we would be towards the end," he said, as I quickly typed in the address for the tournament website, and searched like crazy for the profiles.

Clicking on my own, I quickly scanned it right down to the bottom of the page, and found, just as Alexander had said, a small part at the bottom had been taken out to tell where the first part of the tournament would be taking place, and even gave specifics on the hotel where we were staying at.

"Guess they figured that nobody would go too crazy over a bunch of video game nerds," Naoko said as she took back her computer, and closed it off. "But they didn't account for the little trap we have right here," she said, running her fingers through my hair. "Your sister was probably right about it being too dangerous for you."

"In all fairness, she's the one that kind of started this," I said in return, that little feeling the back of my skull telling me that I was lying to myself.

"I'm not so sure," Naoko said, walking back towards the door past Alexander who pushed himself harder against the wall. "Chances are that if it were another time, another woman would've taken advantage of your looks, and if it weren't your sister, you could've been worse off."

The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks, my little voice was beginning to quiet down, and now whatever it was trying to say, whether it was blocked out by my selective hearing, or if by my own ignorance, was crystal clear. The idea that I could've been worse off had it been someone else who took advantage of me, was actually very real to me as both left the room, and left me alone again to think about how this could've actually happened. All that came to me was a scream, a laugh, a satisfied moaning, sirens, a vow, and my sister holding me as I shivered. I had always been known to be a person who remembered everything, but something kept me from seeing the actual images that went with those sounds. I fell back onto the bed and quickly dozed off, the dim lighting of the room, the quiet nature surrounding me, and within seconds I was out.

"_As the tournament is coming closer and closer, it just seems that it was too perfect that my sister took that picture to spark all of this,"_ I said, still slightly conscious. _"I have to think that it's too outrageous to be a coincidence, but would my sister take a picture that would put several people after me just so it would keep me close to her. Can I really believe that, though? That the one person who actually cared about me back then would do something better for herself than the one she cared for?"_

I curled up under the blankets, and lost all my thoughts, quickly falling asleep completely; unaware of everything happening around me.

* * *

I woke up several hours later, it was probably closer to ten o clock based on the site of Marisol asleep in the other bed in the room. My vision was slightly blurred, but I was at least able to walk around, and look towards the window at the far end of the room. The night scenery of Paris was something that could only be described as a masterpiece of art; the sight of the Eiffel Tower over everything else in the immediate area made me think of the churches in Moscow, towering over the surrounding buildings. It made me think of how everything we see as beautiful today wasn't seen in the same way. Unfortunately, that one structure was the only one I knew in terms of Paris, even having sat in with my sister's French class when I was younger.

"To think, at one point, it was thought that this was going to be the tallest structure in the world," I said, smiling as I walked quietly out of the room, and made my way down the hall, figuring it would be a good time to get something to eat, seeing as I hadn't eaten anything for at least ten hours.

* * *

Not to my surprise, the kitchen had been closed for the night, and as I reached for the vending machine the ever present feeling of someone breathing down my neck returned to me. The cold breath on my neck had been appearing all day, and truth be told, I was beginning to get sick of it. I turned back around as fast as I could, again finding the scenery to be completely devoid of any person, and there were no signs that anybody was even anywhere near me. I reached down for my small treat, and began making my way back to my room when I definitely heard a distinct sound. It wasn't what I had been hearing for the past few hours, but sounded more like grunting; you know, like when you hear someone working out against a punching bag.

I rounded the corner, trying to find whoever was making the sound, and I found that down the hall of the lobby was a fitness center built right into the hotel. I wasn't sure whether to impressed, shocked, horrified by how much they were spending, or maybe even a little _disappointed_ at how much they were spending. Obviously, though, there was somebody who disagreed with me, and as I looked through one of the windows, I was met by a sight I wasn't sure I would have had I not joined the tournament.

* * *

He was a lot like Brett, only shorter by at least half a foot, despite looking older by a year, but that could have been for a number of reasons. He was much more muscular than anyone I expected to meet in this tournament, made apparent only by when he punched the sandbag hanging from the low ceiling, sweat dropping from his blond hair, reaching down past his ears. My guess he was from the States, but then again, I had been wrong about a lot of people so far, based on how tan his skin had been, probably from doing a lot more in the sun. His eyes, hair, and body helped me to cement an idea that this guy had seen more action than I ever would within the next ten years, with the wild, unkempt appearance, aided by his scars all over his body. He was wearing a white t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans and sneakers with a black ski cap, and navy blue hooded sweatshirt laying on the bench on the other side of the window.

* * *

I don't know what made me think anything about him, but if I wanted to get any of my predictions to become right at some time while I was here, I figured that he would be easy to start with. I'm not even sure why I believed he was part of the tournament; he didn't fit the normal profile of the other people I had met. Most of them were either basic gamers or had something to do with pokémon, and its effect on their life. This guy was athletic, strong, and obviously had no problems in stress relief. As he made a final punch, making the bag swing from side to side, he grabbed a towel down next to him, and began wiping off the sweat.

"You know it's not polite to stare," he said, as I jumped slightly from where I stood. "Hope you enjoyed the show, I'll be here all week," he said, walking over to his other clothes, and just simply put his sweatshirt on over his short, and his hat on, making his hair look more controlled. "Anything you needed, Takebana?" he asked.

"Just couldn't sleep," I said, not even caring that he already knew my name.

"Funny, you've been sleeping for about five hours now," he said, looking down at an imaginary watch. "Leon Ryder, American rep," he said, waving from behind the window. What do you know, I was right. "And I'm probably going to be giving you the most trouble in this tournament."

"Flying types?" I asked as Leon gave a quick smile before making what was supposed to be a shadow puppet of a bird, flapping his hands up and down to show it flying. "Flying types," I answered for him. "Well, the only consolation is that I'm with the electric user, so it takes a bit of the edge off."

"Yeah, key term in that phrase was, 'a bit,'" Leon said sarcastically, as he sat down on the bench. "So how you holding up, kid? Something like this has got to freak you out even just a little bit."

"I don't know if I'd say freaked out, but you know, it's kind of creepy to know that they're actually trying to find me," I said, Leon just giving off a slight chuckle. "I'm sorry, but I just don't know what I'm feeling."

"I kinda get it," Leon said, walking out of the gym. "You're the kind of guy who has everything planned out. You know what's going on around you, and now that things aren't going the way you thought, you're not sure if you're supposed to be afraid or whatever else."

"So what do you suggest?" I asked as Leon just turned to me with a mischievous smile.

"Nothing, you're screwed, kid," he said, giving off a short burst of laughter before noticing the look on my face saying, "leave it at that, and I'll kill you." "I know that it sounds mean, but what can you do? From what that Shorty, Naoko said about the situation at the competitor prep earlier, all you guys have to go on are a bunch of anonymous usernames that could trace back to anyone, some of them could even be just joking around."

"Well aren't you just the cheery one?" I said as he still kept the same smile on his face.

"What's the matter, seeing the bottle of vodka half empty?" he asked as my shoulder hunched over as my face kept the expression of indefinite murder. "Oh come on, you're from Russia, you had to know there'd be a vodka joke at some time."

"Maybe, but it might've held some actual water if I was older," I said. "At any rate, things just don't seem to be going to well. It's even worse seeing as now it seems like there are two of my older sister now."

"Your sister looks like Marisol?" Leon asked, myself just nodding. "Hmm, lucky guy," he said under his breath, but I was still aware of what he said. "So is that a good thing or a bad thing, in your eyes? Because if it were any other guy, they'd kill for that kind of person."

"I'd kill myself if it came to that," I said jokingly, obviously this was known by Leon, seeing as his reaction didn't have anything to do with sending me to a psychologist in a straight jacket; true story, I'll have to get into it later. "Last time I told that joke, it didn't end well for me."

"Hmm, I could only imagine," he said, already figuring the implications of what I said. "No offense, kid, but I don't think you should be walking around by yourself after the police order."

"I don't know, Marisol left me alone for a while after the order was issued," I said, stretching my arms behind my back. "And she obviously left when you guys were talking about the tournament itinerary."

"I wouldn't get so snippy, kid," Leon said, leaning against the window facing the recreation center. "Marisol actually demanded that we have the meeting in her room so we could all keep an eye on you. She's a pretty shallow person, but I think she doesn't want to see you get hurt. Besides, I wouldn't be talking about her like that for the moment," he said, turning my head towards the end of the hall, leading to the lobby where Naoko and Marisol both stood, tapping their feet.

"I'm busted, aren't I?" I asked, Leon just giving me another nod, backing away, to keep from being hurt by the blowback. "You think I'll be able to talk my way out of this?" I asked, receiving a quick shake of the head from Leon.

I conceded to both girls, receiving a fairly strongly worded lecture from Marisol and Naoko both, which almost seemed strange to me given the difference in overall height between us, but I still listened. I was led back up through the hall with Naoko by Marisol's instructions, but I couldn't help but notice that Marisol had stayed behind herself, and seemed to be speaking with Leon. Before I could do anything else, Naoko pushed me into the elevator on the side of the hall, and I had a feeling nothing good was going to happen after I reached my room.

* * *

"What was Sasha talking to you about?" Marisol asked, Leon repositioning his hat, allowing the front bangs of his hair to peek through. "Obviously he trusts you a bit more than the rest of us."

"I wouldn't say he trusts me," Leon said, still leaning against the window. "I just don't become some overbearing older sister surrogate who would let him cry to her at the drop of a hat. I talk to him like he's still a man. I think that's what he prefers over most other things."

"Were you making a shot against me?" Marisol asked, Leon simply turning her while wiggling his eyebrows. "Of course you were. Still, it's pretty big talk coming from a guy who has to hit something to feel better about himself."

"I have no qualms about who I am," Leon said, taking his hand out of his pocket, a game system clenched in his fingers. "Who I am shouldn't matter to anyone but me, and still people think that I'm nothing more than a violent guy."

"Because you are," Marisol said, Leon not denying her words. "But since you seem so determined to get to Sasha, I have no choice but to see what your intentions are."

"I'd say that's pretty obvious," Leon said, both walking into the lobby, towards one of the battle monitors placed in the far corner. "I win, you don't bother me anymore, and if you win, I'll tell you everything I have to do with the little dude."

Both placed their game systems into the jack-in plugs, and sat down in the two seats for the terminal. The battle system turned itself on, and both players faced each other, Leon giving the same confident smile, and Marisol gritting her teeth out of frustration. The six pokéballs appeared across the main screen, and Leon just scanned them quickly, Marisol looking back and forth between her pokémon and Leon.

"_This should be a basic battle, electric and flying, nothing more,"_ she said to herself, trying to figure out every possible outcome, but then holding her head in pain. _"Argh, why do I have to be so fluttery? This guy could have some plan against me, and I'm not seeing it yet."_

"Single Battle," Leon said to the computer, as the function was activated, and three empty pokéball slots appeared on the screen where the other pokémon were probably supposed to go into. "Pokémon four, three, and one. That should be more than enough challenge for you, unless you're just another pretty face."

"At least you know beauty when you see it," Marisol said, looking at her pokémon. "Pokémon _uno, tres, y cinco_," she said into the microphone as the six pokémon chosen between the two players appeared in the empty pokéball slots, and the screen changed to the battle screen. "Let's begin, Zeus!" she called out, her pokémon being sent out as a Magnezone with the nickname after the Greek god.

"Looks like fun, show 'em what we got, Staraptor!" Leon shouted as the large bird pokémon appeared out of the puff of smoke from the capsule, and the flapping and levitation of both pokémon were shown to be simulated perfectly. "Let's make this quick, Close Combat!" he commanded, the flying type disappearing for a second.

As it reappeared, directly in front of the steel and electric type, Staraptor began making any use of it body to be used to batter the pokémon senseless as the attacked continued with Marisol making no reaction, no matter how powerful the attack was shown to be. The attack ended, Staraptor surrounded by a falling shower of light, simulating the lowering of its defensive stats. Leon looked over at the Magnezone, content with his work, but still found the steel type floating, its health bar a small sliver from being defeated.

"Sturdy," Marisol said, with no explanation requested. "Works every time," she said. "Especially after this; Rest!" she called out, Magnezone's eyes disappearing and the signature "SLP" appearing next to its already rising health bar. "And then this," she finished, a small berry shaped like a blue cone fell from the sky, and the electric and steel mix instantly waking up.

"Rest to heal it up after having used Sturdy, Chesto Berry to keep it awake so you get a free turn now," Leon said, going through the basic strategy, sounding generally unimpressed. "You don't have to be a rocket science to figure that kind of thing, and from the user, that kind of idea isn't too far off."

"Shut it," Marisol said, her frustration showing through all too easily. "Zeus can take anything you throw it at now."

"I know," Leon said, Marisol raising one of her eyebrows out of confusion. "Staraptor, straight to the end, Close Combat!" he shouted, the large bird using the same attack it had in the first turn.

After the battering of Magnezone's body had finished, Marisol looked at Leon's eyes, and found them no longer as the intellectual boy who could come up with a snappy comeback at a moment's notice. Instead, she saw the eyes of somebody who would do anything in battle, no matter the consequences, and, if she were tell the truth in its purest form, she would say that the look on his face terrified her. She brought the microphone back up to her mouth, and took a deep breath, trying to get the image of Leon's eyes out of her mind.

"Zeus, take it out, with Flash Cannon!" she commanded, looking forward at the Staraptor as the shower of lights had finally receded, decreasing both defensive stats. _"My only electric attack wouldn't do much, seeing as Electro Ball only works effectively on pokémon that are slower than the one I'm using. Either way, Staraptor's defense has been taken down by two levels from Close Combat, so this should be more than enough."_

As she thought, the second the reflective beam shot from the weakened mechanical pokémon, Staraptor held its wings up in defense, but alas, in vain. As the beam made contact, Staraptor was quickly blasted back, and its hit points quickly depleted from a full bar to completely empty. Leon watched his pokémon return to the pokéball, and gave a half smile of satisfaction, looking forward at the screen, sending out his next pokémon.

"Let's do this right, Gliscor!" he said, as the sound of the pokémon's name made Marisol's eyes widen in surprise, and the form of the ground a flying mix flapping high above where Magnezone floated. "One shot," he declared, holding up his index finger. "Thunder Fang, just for that bit of irony."

At the sound of the command, the flying scorpion swooped down from where it was, and opened its mouth as wide as it could while its fangs were quickly engulfed in electricity. The second that Gliscor's fangs bit down on Magnezone, it didn't take much effort from either for the outcome to come about; Magnezone quickly fainting, and returning to the pokéball. Marisol bit the bottom of her lip, and just stared at the pokémon completely immune to her element, and any attacks of said element. Taking another breath in, she placed her hand on the screen, and quickly slid it across the field as another form of sending out her pokémon.

"Indra, it's your turn!" she called out, the pokémon revealed to be one of the most popular electric types to be used; Eelektross.

"Figured you'd be using that eventually," Leon said, studying the pokémon's anatomy, and just smiling to himself. "Gliscor, Sky Uppercut!" he shouted, the attack choice confusing Marisol, initially.

As the ground and flying type rocketed towards the eel pokémon, one of its pincers began to shine in a harsh white light that seemed to guide it underneath its opponent's head. Quickly flying straight up, Gliscor's attack struck Eelektross directly under his chin, knocking it off of its balance, but putting it far from being beaten, barely going into the lower green are.

"You'll have to do better than that," Marisol said, letting off a more confident smile. "Indra, use Aqua Tail!" she commanded, the back of the Eelektross' tail was engulfed in a raging current of water.

As it flipped itself over Gliscor's current position, still underneath it, Eelektross brought the entirety of the attack, watching crashing down on it flying away in a sporadic, and rather random pattern. Leon simply watched Gliscor's health bar quickly deplete, but then stop at the beginning of the yellow area not receiving any kind of negative reaction from him, almost disappointing Marisol.

"Do you feel any kind of remorse for how you battle with your pokémon?" Marisol asked as Leon began to speak, but instantly backed into his chair to stop of think about what she had just said. "I meant, if they were real," she said, instantly knowing what Leon was making a point on.

"I don't deal in hypothetical situations," Leon said. "They just make your head hurt, and by the way you were acting earlier, that would hurt your head even more so."

"I told you to shut it!" Marisol said angrily.

"But you asked me a question," Leon said, looking at her with the basic triumphant smile he always had on his face. "Gliscor, attack with X-Scissor!" he called out, the ground and flying type still in the same position, allowing itself to bring a pincer back to its face, its health instantly increasing by a small amount. "Leftovers, works every time," he said, mocking how Marisol was acting just earlier.

Gliscor came back up to Eelektross as the latter prepared its own attack, another Aqua Tail, without Marisol's command making Leon just look at her with an expectant look that partially asked for an explanation.

"Choice Scarf," she answered, the bug attack from Gliscor coming down on Eelektross with the two ends of its claws painting the picture of an X shape slash across Eelektross' body. Marisol bit her lower lip again, almost praying that the attack would spare her pokémon. _"I need Sasha to help me win this tournament. I'll finally be able to step out of her shadow after all this time,"_ she said to herself, seeing her pokémon's health bar still functioning, but definitely closer to being defeated. _"Thank you,"_ she said quickly in her head. "Finish him off!" she said, much more confident.

As the same attack was brought down onto Gliscor in the same way it had before, Leon watched his second pokémon already be returned back to him. He still remained unfazed by the situation, Marisol still skeptical how he felt about his pokémon. As she saw Leon's head lower, she let out a small sigh of relief, but then heard the definite sound of soft chuckling from his direction. As she looked back towards him, Leon's head instantly snapped up with a confident smile as he slid his hand across the screen to send out his next pokémon, and at the same instant picked up the microphone.

"Dragon Claw!" he said, as the pokéball opened, and something shot directly out of it, still covered in the white light, but the attack still connected with the dazed electric type.

"Indra!" Marisol shouted, trying to get through to her pokémon, but saw it faint instantly, Leon's pokémon still unable to be seen until it stopped moving back at his side of the field. "A Charizard?" she asked as Leon and his pokémon both gave off the same confident smile. _"How did the program move so fast through the computer without causing some kind of crash in the hard drive?"_ she asked herself, looking back at Charizard and how the mere sight of it changed Leon's expression.

"There is a reason that I need to get closer to Sasha," Leon said. "Consider this a freebie; I need to see that look in his eye again. That rush after he defeated me all that time ago."

"You've battle him before?" Marisol asked, moving her hand back over the screen. "And what look in his eyes?"

"I went to Moscow as a little trip, and I entered the tournament there as a fun thing to do, and I was the one to set him off," Leon said. "When he used that Gallade, I knew there was something different about that pokémon, and it was the same feeling I got when I battled with my Charizard. Finding another person with that kind of ability isn't something that I can say that often. I need to release the Czar."

"I don't know what you mean by any of this, but if you want to hurt my partner, you have to get by me," Marisol said, sending her pokéball across the screen with one movement of her hand, and picked up the microphone. "Set, finish him off with Discharge!" she shouted as the pokéball quickly opened up, revealing a quick footed Jolteon, already covered in electricity.

Releasing the electric power with one thrust of its body, Jolteon let out a large cry as it saw its opponent engulfed in its attack. Marisol began to calm her breathing down, looking down at the Jolteon, named Set, with a satisfied look, but was met by one of the most terrifying sights as she noticed Charizard still standing. Leon's face had become even more wild as he picked up the microphone and took in one more breath.

"Charizard, show them what people like us can do," he said as the fire on the fire and flying type's tail burned brighter until it was higher than its own body. "Blast Burn!" he shouted, his pokémon letting out a small ball of fire into the air.

As it hit the ground, it was as if there was a moment of silence in the area that was filled in an instant with a deafening sound in the immediate area. The heat waves from the fire attack filled the battlefield, blasting Jolteon back against the border of it, and almost forced it out of the stage had the pokéball not returned it back, leaving Marisol in shock at the power it boasted. She looked up from where she sat to see Leon, and was met by his calming face as he kept the same smile on it.

"You have to know that there are people like me and Sasha that see this as not just a game," he said. "There will always be people like us who can see past the data, and see a pokémon's true potential, no matter how small. It's why I have to fight him, and if I have to force the Czar out at that point, so be it," he said walking away into the darkened hallway.

Marisol was left in her seat, still labored in her breathing, and just thought of the rush that Leon got, from just using his Charizard. She then imagined Sasha as Leon just was, wondering what he meant by the Czar. The image chilled her to the bone as her eyes were left wide open, giving way to a near sleepless night.

* * *

Character Appearances:

Alexander "Sasha" Takebana (Fighting): Gallade (Gamma), Hariyama (Alpha), Conkeldurr (Sigma), Emboar (Theta), other Pokémon TBA. NightFall00

Marisol Torres (Electric): Jolteon (Set), Magnezone (Zeus), Eelektross (Indra), other Pokémon TBA.

Stuart Wakahisa (Normal): Pokémon TBA. Moth's Aflame

Brett Kuso (Water): Samurott, Poliwrath, Quagsire, Gyarados, other Pokémon TBA. AshKetchumDarkSide

Akiraka "Aspen" Kizuna (Rock): Tyranitar, Gigalith, other Pokémon TBA. Crossroader32

Julien Durand (Grass): Pokémon TBA. KingOfStories01

Louise Castillo (Dark): Pokémon TBA. Detonator Liberation

Naoko Kato (Steel): Scizor (Kana), other Pokémon TBA. Cyanide the Sneasel

Alexander "Aruku" Ruvaku Castiel (Psychic): Pokémon TBA. ZxZ Fic Hunter

Leon Ryder (Flying): Charizard, Staraptor, Gliscor, other Pokémon TBA. Jexo

* * *

Notes:

Eiffel Tower: Since this part of the story takes place in Paris, you had to know that I was going to talk about this eventually. So the tower was made in 1889 for the World's Fair, and essentially was made as a lattice structure. Constructed by the team under the lead of Gustave Eiffel, the tower was originally made by entirely of iron before a lot of the modern additions were made (e.g. radio tower, elevator, restaurants, etc.). The tallest structure in Paris, and the most visited in the world, with 7.1 million people visiting it in 2011 alone. Originally, though, it was thought to be one of the ugliest things seen in the century alone, artistically speaking, and many critics first described it as a giant chimney stack. Eiffel defended himself by saying that this will be the first structure made by man that will be taller than even the Pyramids of Giza, going so far as to having a political cartoon of Eiffel comparing the two. Since then, the Eiffel Tower has always been an iconic symbol that people will always think of when they think Paris.

* * *

I really need a new chair, because when I'm typing nearly four thousand words at a time, it starts to hurt in the lower back area. Complaining aside, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and if possible I'd like to get my new Gijinka story updated this next week if school doesn't have me pinned down, but we'll have to see. Until next time, ja nee (did you notice that I got that little saying in the chapter? WIN!).


	5. Public

Well guys, I'm back with another installment of VGC, and I have to say that knowing I'm able to write a twenty two page document just for your, and my own, enjoyment is one of the things that makes my college life a bit better. Not saying it's bad or anything, but let's face it, when it comes to either a college career or a hobby, I'd go with the latter any day. So the point of this chapter is to get ready for the main tournament going on in Paris, so some of you will still have yet to battle, but hopefully within the next two chapters, I'll have finished introducing the main cast. So, to recap on the current character listings; Sasha Takebana, Naoko Kato, Brett Kuso, Aspen Kizuna, Julien Durand, Stuart Wakahisa, Louise Castillo, Trinity Johnson, Aruku Castiel, Marisol Torres, and Leon Ryder. That brings us up to eleven characters introduced, so there're still five more, and I already can tell you who they are. I think I've talked long enough, and you deserve to read more of the story that you all have been so good to read and review.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Public

Have you ever thought about how different your life would be if you were famous? You know, you walk down the street, wearing a disguise so you didn't have to be known by your fans? Well, there are a lot of reasons why people who are famous, for whatever reason, good or bad, hate the way they have to live their lives. For some, it could be the idea that they don't feel as though they're on the same level as other people, which is never aided by the public consensus. Too often, people who are famous are thought of only for that, even among members of their own family, and never seen as just regular people who have lives outside of their jobs. People always say that they want to be the next one-hit wonder superstar, or the next major athletic prodigy, or some other kind of major profession like that, but they never know what's going to happen to them when they actually make it, and I can guarantee you, from where I stand, nothing can prepare for what would actually happen to you.

* * *

I think everything started for this little incident when I was sent back to my room by both Marisol and Naoko. I was sitting on my bed with my legs crossed, along with my hands buried in my lap as I stayed slightly hunched in my posture. Naoko was sitting the same way in front of me on the same bed, but with her arms folded across her chest, and her back straightened. Anyone could tell she was angry with me, and I think I knew why, but I was waiting to see which one of us would crack first and talk. I don't think it's too hard to figure out which one that was.

"Why did you go out there alone?" Naoko asked, flicking my forehead. "You know that Marisol-chan and I were going crazy looking for you."

"Please, even I can tell that Marisol is too concerned with her own agenda to care about others," I said, stretching out my back to it was making a complete arch behind me. "That agenda just includes me is all, and don't try and make me think otherwise. I'll tell you, if I wasn't her partner, she probably wouldn't give a shot glass full of vodka if it came to me. Oh great, now I'm making the vodka jokes," I said, remembering the bad joke that Leon had made just twenty minutes earlier on the first floor.

Naoko didn't answer, and that's when I knew that she really was worried about me. Naoko, since meeting her, only from three days ago, I've found to be a very honest person, and not the kind that would lead you astray. She's straightforward, upbeat, maybe a little naïve, but most of all, she's genuinely concerned for any of her friends. For the past ten hours she had been searching through the comments on those stupid pictures of me, trying to find anyone that would set off that little red flag. For the first time, I found that website to be the perfect place to look for these people, because it didn't allow removal or flagging of certain comments. It meant that the only problem was going to be figuring out who used what username.

"I take it you're not leaving until Marisol comes back," I said as Naoko stayed true to her posture with a simple nod. "Right, because we all know that telling somebody _not_ to do something is gonna work."

Naoko was still quiet, not making any effort to fight me on my position on either Marisol's real intentions, or about my safety in the hotel whether alone or with anybody. She just sat there and stared at me, and for some crazy reason, her arguments in silence were louder than she could have ever been with words. I slowly became silent and much calmer as her eyes showed the true concern of a friend that I would never have had. It's said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and I was beginning to believe it; the small water droplet appearing in the corner of her eye, the subtle attempts made by her to conceal her tears, and then there was what her voice tried to force through her teeth.

"Things never have to be complicated when they're being explained, right?" I asked, trying to figure out what Naoko was trying to say. "We can't help but feel worried for you because we have no idea as to how you're actually feeling about your situation. You consider yourself cursed for not being able to help me, just as much as I feel cursed for being born with this face."

Naoko could only weakly nod as she wiped the tear from her eye, and then showed off that usual smile of hers, that, at the same time as she made it, made me think of Natsumi. I originally thought that entering this tournament would help me get away from her, but instead, it only brought me to think of her all the more. I guess it was the definition of the phrase, "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Although, I swear, if this tournament makes me relieved to see her after it's done, I'll find somebody to smack upside the head.

"Where do you think Marisol is?" I asked, leaning over to turn both of our attention to the door. "She stayed to talk to Leon, but after that, I can't imagine what would be taking her so long."

"Maybe it's like what happened between Aspen-chan and Brett," Naoko said casually, quickly covering her mouth after realizing what she said.

"What do you mean by 'what happened between Aspen and Brett?'" I asked, Naoko turning back to me with her mouth still covered by both of her hands, trying to mask the fact that she was hiding something from me. "You know, Naoko, if Leon and Brett both have something to do with me, I should be the one to know."

"Who said anything about this having to do with you?" Naoko asked, turning her head away. "Man, talk about conceded."

"You and the rest of this crew are all obsessing over the fact that some kind of weird group of people is after me," I said, Naoko still unable to give me a good answer. "If there was something that didn't have to do with me right now, I'd honestly be surprised."

"Oh, it's just something that happened in Moscow, is all," Naoko said, trying to make sound like not such a big deal, and failing miserably, let me tell you.

"You mean the same night that my head almost got bashed in, and you two were going to get to bottom of why Brett took me to a hospital instead of back to motel?" I asked, Naoko's argument weakening all the more as I reminded of her of those ever important details. "Did you fail to mention that little factoid when we were in that hospital room together, and you were ladling ice down my back?"

"Well, at that point, I didn't know, I figured Aspen-chan would be stealthy enough to steal Brett's laptop so we could look at what he was researching on you," she said, widening her eyes at how fast she just spilled the beans. "Can we forget I said that?" she asked as I shook my head left to right.

"The only thing that this is helping me with is cementing the idea that Brett is gathering some kind of information on me, but the only question is why," I said, standing up, pacing the bed while Naoko tried her best to follow me. "If it had something to do with Czar, then maybe there's something I can learn about him for myself."

"I think you're making this too complicated," Naoko said. "Brett wasn't looking at anything about your ancestor, I think he was looking for a way to beat Gamma," she said, lying back on the bed as I froze.

Gamma? My Gallade? Why would Brett be looking at something like that? Does he know something about Gamma that I don't? Is there something that Gamma actually does to me that I still don't know about? Every time I play with Gamma in battle, there isn't a time I never become overtaken with that power of confidence, and now I find out the first person I battle in this tournament with that persona is looking at that specific pokémon.

"If only it wasn't so late, I'd be able to talk to him about it," I said, turning around to see an annoyed look on Naoko's face. "And if I wasn't under house arrest, maybe. But then there's Leon."

"What about him? He's just a rep from the states," Naoko said, not understanding my curiousness. "How much can he know? We all know what the education rating is over there."

"Since when did pokémon have anything to do with higher education?" I asked. "Besides, when I was talking to him, I had a small glimpse of what Brett felt like when he battled me after I used Gamma. How did you feel when the Czar came out?" I asked as Naoko began to think on it.

"I thought you were pretty cool," she said, not getting to the actual answer. "I was thinking, when he grows out of his basic persona as a cute kid, and grows up, he'll be a bishounen character for sure, and that's the personality I'd want him to have. But I felt like you weren't focused on the battle as much as you were just thinking about your pokémon."

"Feelings aside, I think you're right," I said in agreement. "You always have those huge gaming nerd that have no life outside of games, but then there are people like Leon whose aura just seems to radiate that one aspect of their life that fuels the motivation for everything else. Is that what you're talking about?"

"Kinda," Naoko said. "Maybe Marisol-chan can help us figure that out."

As if she were waiting at the door, waiting for us to mention her, Marisol walked in, but something was definitely wrong with her. When both of us left her, she was the normal girl that I met earlier in the day, but now, her eyes were filled with shock and either horror or amazement. She didn't speak, but turned to face me, her expression softening, and simply turned to face Naoko, the Japanese rep simply looked up at her, expecting her to talk to her.

"Naoko," she said, the younger girl relaxing after the tension in the room had lessened. "Could you leave me and Sasha alone? I have to talk to him."

"Oh, okay," Naoko answered, a little disappointed that Marisol only wanted to talk to me, and she knew it was important. "I'll see you in the morning then, Sasha-kun," she said as she stood up, but then shot me a glare that spoke of only one thing, "spill the beans tomorrow or die."

* * *

The room was silent again; Marisol was sitting on the bed adjacent to me, and trying to find a way to get the words she was trying to say, out of her mouth. She made several gestures with her hands to try and prepare either me or herself for what she was trying to say, and before I know it, she begins pacing the room trying to figure out how she's going to say what she wanted to. I lied down on my bed, and placed my hands behind my neck, just following Marisol's movements in my peripheral.

"Obviously when you entered this tournament, the officials weren't looking at your brain," I said, as she shot me a glare that I caught out of the corner of my eye. "Seriously, just say what you have to, and we'll go from there."

"How do you know Leon?" she asked quickly, no hesitation, no thoughts put into her words, leaving me slightly confused by what she was trying to say. "I mean, in what way are you acquainted with that guy Leon Ryder?"

"Newsflash, spicing up one's vocabulary doesn't exactly make the question any less weird," I said, sitting up, Leon's face coming back to memory. "I've only met Leon tonight, I saw him working out in the recreation center, he noticed me, already knew me, and simply introduced himself. So, as far as I can tell, I knew nothing about him before tonight."

"Well, he sure seems to know you," Marisol said in reply, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "He told me about how you two battled in Moscow earlier this year."

"We battled in Moscow?" I asked. "News to me let me tell you. Although, I remember next to nothing about that tournament for certain reasons," I said, not wanting anyone else know about Czar. "If I did battle Leon, then I probably forgot about it, and he just introduced himself to get reacquainted."

"No, he said something about 'having to release the Czar,' whatever that means," she said, my eyes widening out of shock, and forcing me to turn my head away. "And then saying that he, 'set you off,' or something like that. I mean, obviously this guy knows a lot more about you than the rest of us, so what do you think?"

I was silent, still looking away out the window out of shock that somebody aside from who I've told knew about _him_. Marisol saw the look in my eye, and tried to face me directly, moving across the bed to see how my face was acting because apparently, I'm about as obvious as a crater when it comes to my emotions. I moved the thought of Leon knowing about who I was inside out of my brain, and my expression immediately calmed. I was still looking in the direction of the window, and I could see my face; the one that I cursed for so long. It was raining outside; always nice to see when things aren't exactly having a happy feeling, and after a sudden flash of lightning, I saw my reflection split in half, the right side of my head replaced by the form of a Gallade's.

I recoiled back, and fell up against Marisol, who, believe you me, was just as surprised as I was where this whole thing led up to. Instead of doing what a sensible person would do and let go, I could feel her tightening her arms around me from behind, pressing down on me until I was lying on the bed again, but on my stomach. As I tried to move out from under her, I felt her run her hands through my hair, and her body closing in on me as though to keep me from moving too much.

"Marisol, what are you doing?" I asked, noticing that her eyes were already half asleep.

"Ever since I was little, people like Leon have scared me," she said, my mood on the situation not becoming more positive, but understanding instead. "I'm a girl, and you may not know this, but sometimes, just hugging something that we know is more innocent than what scared us is some of the best therapy you can get," she said, burying her face in my hair, giving off a slight sigh of relief as she cuddled me all the tighter.

"I'm not much of a guy, but I know for my kind, it just takes a punch on the shoulder," I said, already aware that she was asleep. "It's like six months of therapy, and costs about seventeen hundred dollars less," I continued, knowing that nobody was going to answer me. "I'm pretty sure at this point I could just say anything I wanted, huh?" I asked, trying to turn around, feeling Marisol stuck in the same position.

It's never something I like to admit to, but being in close proximity to a girl like my sister or Marisol just puts me in the same mood that heat does, and since I just used her as an example, I can't use her as an exception. My eyes began to drift deeper to sleep, despite having just woke up close to an hour and a half ago. I managed to pull the blankets over the two of us, and bring my thoughts back to Leon as I fell back to sleep. Why did he know about the Czar? Did I really battle him in the first round in that tournament in Moscow? Was he really the one to set me off in that mode? Where did _he_ even come from? Why do I have _him _in my body? And again, this feeling of something watching me keeps coming back; why?

Leon and my paranoia were just two of the many things bothering me by this point; current situation not being one of them. Brett was, though, and definitely he was somebody I was going to have to talk to if I wanted answers about Gamma and the Czar. But something still didn't add up. What was so confidential that he didn't want to tell me? Would the truth of who the Czar really is be so horrible to him that he would think I couldn't handle it at all? Another thing; what kind of shampoo does this girl use, I mean, it smells like Natsumi's. Hey, one more similarity.

* * *

I woke up several hours later, and Marisol had already released me, but was still asleep next to me. She was much calmer than she was last night, and obviously from how she looked now, whatever Leon did to her was life altering. I climbed out of the bed, and walked into the adjacent bathroom to shower. As I looked at myself in the mirror, that little voice in my head started nagging me again, telling me that I had to know more about Leon if I was ever going to put this situation to rest. I didn't listen, and followed the quote of a very wise man by the name of Joseph Lo, "Life is always better after a shower."

I sat underneath the small waterfall and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to figure some more stuff out before Marisol woke up. I'm a pretty controlling person, so things need to be planned out for me to function properly. First things first, I need to get out and find some new clothes, seeing as most of mine were cut up like yesterday's meatloaf. I still need to meet all of the other reps for the tournament, figure out everything I can about that stalker group, but Naoko may have that part covered, and then figure out what Leon and Brett know about the Czar.

Okay, maybe Mr. Lo was lying; my life didn't seem any different from when I got in the shower. But then again, that kind of saying may have been more of a generalization rather than an actual fact, and he definitely wasn't thinking about outliers like myself, but I digress. I moved out of the bathroom, already dressed, and I could tell that Marisol was already waiting for me by the way she was sitting on my bed.

"So, what's your plan for today?" she asked, looking over at my one bag with barely anything packed inside. "And the real question to one of those plans is who you trust to take you clothes shopping."

"Well, the answer to that would really be which of the two is the lesser of two evils," I answered, drying off the rest of my hair. "If I go with one of the guys that I already know, it'll make any of them look like pedophiles. And if I go with a girl, I'm afraid of what they may dress me up as. And believe me when I say that that's actually a valid reason."

"Yeah, I think we all figured that out," Marisol agreed as she stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of," she said, walking past me, running her hand over my head. "Unless you'd like to help," she said teasingly as she cupped her hand under my chin.

My response didn't need words and was quickly carried out as she left the room, and into the bathroom. I was alone in the room, but my thoughts were still on the full one eighty that Marisol managed to make after how she appeared after speaking with Leon. But then again, to me, Leon didn't seem the type to just be chatting about himself too much. Sure the guy could've taken a little less air being put in his head, but he still had the same amount of humility as a regular person. Would a guy like that really blab about a plan he has? Or did something else happen between him and Marisol last night? My questions didn't feel any closer to being answered as I heard the shower turn on, and realized that I had probably close to seven to ten minutes before she got out to do a bit of snooping.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I knew that it would be pretty obvious, given Marisol's intelligence as compared to some of the other competitors. No offense to the girl, but even I could probably top in her placement exams, had she been in a Japanese school. Unfortunately for me she wasn't as obvious as I would've liked. Her phone had a pattern based password, I wasn't about to go searching through her bag, and the fact that I spent nearly five of my seven minutes just trying to figure something out, chances were I was either going to fry for trying to snoop, or I should give up right then and there.

I sat directly back on the bed, and fell back, staring back at the ceiling. I've never liked not being in control, and any time I lose it, it makes me feel as helpless as when I'm with my sister, or one of her friends. Long story, I'll get into it later. I knew nothing about what happened last night, and there was that nagging feeling that it had everything to do with me, but that just might be my own paranoia, there's a guy who seems to know everything about my other side, and now I'm under house arrest until a bunch of crazies can be found out after ransacking my room. My life is now complete.

My train of thought was broken after a quick rapping on the door; whoever it was, they really wanted to get in, my guess was Naoko. Remembering the last time that I tried to look through the peephole, I grabbed a box sitting in the closet, probably for storage or something like that, and tried to see who it was. From my perspective, there was one person I did know, and the other I didn't; the first being Julien, and from the way that he stood with the other person, she was probably the one named Sorrel Devlin.

* * *

Based on Julien's height, Sorrel was probably five foot five inches tall, a fairly thin build that, in terms of development, was lacking in certain areas, but I'm no judge. Her hair was a golden brown color, resembling honey in color tied up in a series of tight tufts at the ends. Her bangs ended just short of her pale blue colored eyes, which seemed almost a bit larger than the rest of her frame in terms of proportions. Her skin was pale in color, and lining her arms a series of freckles, probably from too much sun earlier on in life. She probably had just woken up from the looks of it, seeing as she was still holding a dark blue cardigan with a tank top on her body instead, and a pair of grey jeans that fell to the ground beneath her feet, and a pair of black boots in her other hand.

* * *

I stepped down from the box, and opened the door for both of them, Sorrel letting out a large yawn while Julien seemed brighter than a lighthouse. I looked at both of them and remembered fairly quickly that they were partners in the tag team tournament starting tomorrow. Slight problem, neither exactly seemed so harmonious with the other.

"Anything I can help you with?" I asked, walking back into the main part of the room, and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Or you guys just going to stay here until Marisol gets out of the shower so that the police are satisfied that I'm with someone at all times?"

"Still a little sore at this, are we?" Julien asked, loving my discomfort. "Well, we have a bit more to do with that until everything is actually settled. You can give him the good news, Sorrel," he said, the girl next to him letting another yawn, having draped the cardigan over her tank top.

"Doesn't get much sleep, does she?" I asked as she looked up, her eyes still half asleep.

"You have to stay with the tournament officials until whoever ransacked your hotel room is found," she said bluntly, making both Julien and I surprised at how easily she relayed the information. "You move into their suite tomorrow when they come for the tournament."

"Tournament officials?" I asked, trying to make sure I heard her right. "I didn't know they had anything like that."

"Well, seeing as more than half of the people in the tournament are minors, the others just barely scraping that bar by being eighteen, they had to bring in a few people to help with the tournament rulings, and make sure we stayed out of danger; obviously failing there, but I digress," Julien explained. "You got one person from the international offices of the Pokémon Company so that we have a legal consultant with the proceedings of the tournament, not to mention a pretty good martial artist, and then a former champ from the Americas. You'll be staying with those two until further notice starting tomorrow."

"Hmm, I guess I'll get packed," I said, looking over at my bag. "Oh, wait," I said, making sure that my point got across to both of them.

"You've been cleared by the police to go out in public so you can replace some of your items," Sorrel said, obviously still half asleep. "We've set it up so you go with the two reps from China, it'll leave you with the least amount of problems."

"How so?" I asked. "I've already established with Marisol the problems with that."

"Yeah, I see your point," Julien said. "Any guy goes with you, people say pedophile, and any girl goes with you, you say possible cross dressing scenario. It's why we picked Luo and Meixiang to go with you. The first is a hopeless country guy who will act like he's walking with a sibling, and the other is a girl who barely speaks more than five words at a time."

The idea sounded all too good to be true to me, and when that happens, it usually means that it is too good to be true. I didn't say anything because I was still going to be able to walk around for a bit with only a few more problems remaining in my head. First and foremost, there was still the situation with Leon and Brett; both seemed to know about my condition, and if I didn't get to them fast I may miss any chance to learn about whom the Czar is. Second, was the whole situation that's been following me since Moscow. With everything that's been happening, I still find it hard that everything that's happened has only taken place over a period of a few days.

Marisol stepped out of the shower, already clothed thank goodness, and saw the current situation the room was, quickly getting informed about the rooming plan for me starting tomorrow. Needless to say, I think she was disappointed about my leaving, but then again, it would've just been another thing to put on the list of similarities form her and Natsumi.

"So, I take it the next time I see you will be at the tournament?" she asked. "Or at least not as much as I have been seeing you for the past day?"

"That would be correct, _ma Cherie_," Julien said, quickly swooping in next to her, in between both of us. "But do not worry, I will still be here whenever you need me."

"Hmm, I think I like the sound of that, _senor_," she said, in the same manner that Julien said it in, making him freeze in position at the sound of her voice. "Or maybe you'd like to do something now, if we get rid of those two."

"Goodbye," he said quickly, taking a large step back, Marisol almost cracking up hysterically afterwards, leave Sorrel and I confused as to what in the heck just happened. Several ideas came to mind at that point, but only a few actually could've made sense.

"Either he wasn't expecting that to work, or he doesn't realize that flirting is a two way street sometimes," I said as Sorrel nodded in agreement, lacing up her boots. "I wonder how he would've reacted if I humored him when I met him. I may have been able to have some fun with this face of mine."

"Don't go there," Julien said quickly. "It's bad enough for me that I don't have the guts to keep conversation going after the pickup line, but when you start suggesting that," he started, simply shuddering afterwards, attempting to clear out his mind of that thought.

"I don't know, if that was the case, it'd be the best time to make one of the best science fiction quotes of all time," a voice said from the other side of the open door, leading up to Leon. "You just have to imagine the speaker with a squid's head."

"I've heard that my whole life, I don't need it anymore," I said, turning around to face him. _"Is there really something about him that could easily freak out Marisol?"_ I asked, turning my gaze towards Marisol, finding her glaring at Leon with the meanest stare ever. _"Apparently there is, and chances are I'm not gonna find out."_

I wanted to bring up what Marisol had talked about to Leon, but something kept telling me that if I did, it would just open a whole other jar of worms. If Leon really did want something from me, it would probably be best to let him carry that out, and then get everything I need from him at that point. Then again, that might not turn out as well as I'm thinking in the long run, but I digress. Leon kept the same smile on his face as he always had, almost as if he had a Botox injection, and Marisol couldn't help but keep her eyes focused on him.

"Looks like your mom still isn't too happy about us hanging out, kid," he said, making an obvious joke about Marisol's protective attitude last night. "Who knows, maybe I'll catch up with you guys when you're out on the town," he said, taking a seat at the desk where my computer sat. "Unless of course, Miss Hall Monitor is there," he said, Marisol, barely able to keep herself calm.

"JUST GET OUT, YOU LITTLE SNEAK, AND STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" she shouted, surprising me as Leon just gave off a little chuckle, and held out his hands in defense, doing as he was told. Marisol didn't speak after that, but turned away from us, holding herself up with her hands on the bed adjacent to mine. "I apologize," she said quietly, probably trying to balance out the decibel levels she was giving out with the past outburst. "He just got me so mad."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Leon's just a jerk by definition," Julien said. "He starts a lot of fights like that, and the scary part is that he always wins them. He just doesn't give off that feeling of a nice protector type, which is what I'm sure we'd all prefer he use that strength for."

Neither Sorrel nor I said anything, we were still trying to make sense of everything that was happening around us. I wasn't sure what Leon did to Marisol to make her so mad, aside from a few jokes, or if it had more to do with whatever happened to them last night. I hate being left out of things that may concern me, but what else could I do but make the situation worse if I opened my mouth? I decided to stay quiet for the rest of the time that Sorrel and Julien were with us, and after they left, the discomfort in the room was more than I wanted to deal with.

* * *

"Why did you agree to come into this tournament, Sasha?" Marisol asked, making me look up at her, not sure how to answer. "Leon's not normal, and he says you're just the same as him. He said you both look at them as more than data. What does that mean, anyway?"

"See who as more than data?" I asked, not giving her a chance to answer. "I can't speak for Leon, but I know one thing; if it weren't for him, I would never be able to call myself strong in anyway. He gives me hope, and that's all I know. After that, I know nothing about what I do, and just know that I'm doing it. It's like someone else is guiding my hand so I know what to do. That's how I see him as more than data, I just don't know the full reason."

"So, if Leon were to act differently when using something like who you were talking about, would that mean anything to you?" Marisol asked, slightly off put by my speech.

"It might," I said. "But that's all I can say. I know nothing about why we are who we are, and what makes us act so specific to that one aspect."

The tension around us was broken again by the sudden knocking of the door that made me just jump slightly at the unplanned nature of it. Marisol went to check the door this time, opening it seconds later, with the two on the other side easily identified as Luo Sun and Meixiang Fong of the People's Republic of China. What can I say? I'm used to being politically correct.

* * *

Luo was probably what one would expect of a country kid; no matter what region of the world. His body was fairly muscular, mostly in the areas that would be congruent with the ideas of heavy lifting, repeated motions in farming such as using a shovel and such, and nothing showed himself to be a person who worked out like Leon, and he was one the taller side, averaging out at about five foot eleven. His hair was the usual brown color that most people share, cut short, and combed downward carefully. His eyes were the normal blue color, and overall, his appearance just reminded me, for some reason, of some kind of a bird, making it more appropriate had he been the one to use flying. He didn't seem to mind the cold much, given he was wearing a white tank top, a pair of gray cargo pants, gray gloves, and black boots.

* * *

Meixiang was, if the two people from the Asian region were to be compared, would be the exact opposite. It'd be like if you were looking at Naoko and Brett. Standing at five foot even, Meixiang didn't boast the body of a fully matured woman, but given that she was only fourteen by the looks of it, it didn't surprise me. Not to sound offensive or anything, when it came to her eyes, they were shaped slightly wider than most people of her ethnic background, with the basic brown color that a lot of people have, and black hair with a sort of choppy look to it, reaching down to her chin. Between Luo and Meixiang, the latter was definitely not as used to the cold as the former; wearing a long gray coat, blue sweater, dark blue jeans, black boots, and a scarf draped over her neck.

* * *

Both gave a casual bow to both of us that we returned in kind. They walked in, and sat on both sides of me on the bed, prompting me to look back and forth at each one of them. Inside my head, I thought there were only a few things that could be on their mind; A, am I really supposed to be their opponent starting tomorrow, B, are they really supposed to take care of me until those tournament reps get out here, or C, am I really a guy? I heaved out a sigh, and looked up at Marisol who shrugged her shoulders, giving me that look that told me to take it.

"What?" I asked, both of them relaxing their shoulders.

"You really a guy?" Luo asked, me falling back onto the bed contemplating how I would strangle him. "Because, no offense, but you're more girly than a lot of girls I know."

"Gotten than before, and you won't be the last time I've heard it," I said, looking up, Meixiang crawling over until her face was hovering directly above me. Her eyes were much more indifferent than Luo's when they were up close, and part of me began to think up several different characters like this from those anime shows my sister used to watch. "Anything I can help you with?" I asked, Meixiang extending a finger, and poking my forehead.

"…Cute," she said plainly, her one worded answer obviously carrying more meaning than what she said, but I took it as it was.

"Oh, this is gonna be a good day, I can tell," I said, not fully convinced by my own words. "So, I take it one of you has a plan for everything happening today?" I asked, not expecting an answer from Meixiang, but more of from Luo who simply stared at me blankly. "I'm gonna take that as a no, huh?" I asked, Luo just giving off a slow nod. "All we need to really do is just get another set of clothes, and keep me out of the public eye."

"Oh yeah, that seems totally possible," Marisol said, turning her computer to face all three of us, Luo's eyes widening out of surprise, Meixiang's keeping the same look about them, and my own turning away so I didn't have to face those stupid pictures. "Half of the internet users in the world have seen at least one of your pictures at the least. You're gonna have to go in a disguise if you don't want the public to notice you."

"I thought you were a guy," Luo said, not exactly seeing the point of the conversation. "The only way you'd be able to pose for those pictures is if you…oh," he said, seeing my face give him a look that said, "get the picture, no pun intended." "You like to cross dress?" he asked, my head sinking down past my shoulders.

"We've got some talking to do, my friend," I said as I leaned up against the wall, and looked back over at the pictures. "Marisol does have a point, though. There aren't a lot of places that prohibit WebPages like this, so it's not like they don't know me. Also, a lot of disguises that we could try. My sister's already used at least once, has planned on it, and has overused like the trainers in tournaments use pokémon like Suicune."

"That always annoyed me," Marisol said as we all nodded in agreement.

"We could put a pair of glasses on you," Luo suggested. "Might help to make others think you're not who they think you are."

"Marisol," I said, turning attention to her. "Go to my sister's homepage," I requested as she did as I asked. "If you go through her picture files, you'll find a series of photographs that are themed," I explained, Marisol, Luo and Meixiang, all surprised to see that I was right. "File number seventy three."

The three looked back at me, noting the number I used to symbolize which picture file to go into. Upon clicking the link to the file, all three pairs of eyes widened out of surprise, and looked back at me as I banged my head against the wall several times to show I knew exactly what they were looking at.

"Okay, so no glasses," Luo said, walking away from the screen, revealing a small part of a photo with me in a pair of wire frame glasses. "That has gotta be the weirdest hobby in the world. Okay, new idea, how about we tie your hair up so that it doesn't look as long," he suggested as the other two nodded their heads in agreement.

"Files fifty four, forty six, and ninety two," I said. "Each one'll show a different hairstyle theme in the pictures, and some of them even go along with the glasses theme. Next idea."

"Well, really the biggest problem is with your hair, isn't it?" Marisol noticed, running her fingers through it, kneeling down to face me. "If tying your hair doesn't work, we could always find a way to hide it, and then give you're a pair of sunglasses."

"How are we gonna hide _this_?" I asked, showing her the full length of the strands. "My hair's been this long since I was six, and my sister never let me cut it higher than this point," I said, placing a hand on the side of my stomach.

"So this _isn't_ your hobby?" Luo asked, still not fully grasping the full idea of the situation, and understanding the pictures that he and Meixiang kept scanning through.

"Oh, this is not gonna be good," I said under my breath. "So who's the next one with the bad idea?" I asked, Meixiang turning around to face me, tilting her head slightly as though she were studying me. "This oughta be good, what you got?"

Meixiang walked back up to me, the two of us standing almost at the same height, and completely silent. She kept her head tilted as she walked around me, and stopped after she was directly behind me. She grabbed hold of one of the loner strands of hair, and then snapped her fingers before pulling off my jacket with one single shot, and then putting it directly back on again. I looked behind me, and saw that the way Meixiang put it back on, my hair, accounting for anything lower than my neck, was covered by the jacket.

"It's sad when the smarter people can't think of the most obvious solutions," I said as Meixiang just gave me a small smile before walking over to Luo, chattering to him in, what seemed like, Mandarin. Luo nodded in, and reached down into a bag he was carrying, pulling out a brown hooded jacket. "Again, I'm beginning to feel intellectually inferior," I said as I fit the oversized jacket over my shoulders, and fit my arms as best I could through the sleeves Meixiang fitting the hood over my head.

"Hmm, not a bad idea, Meixiang," Luo complemented. "Now we just need the sunglasses," he said, Marisol retreating to her closet, and pulling out several pairs, which, for some reason, worried me very much so.

"Designer or generic?" she asked, looking down at the expression on my face, and nodded in understanding. "Generic it is. Have fun with the boring, unstylish set."

"I will, thank you," I said as I walked out of the room with my bag slung over my shoulder, and both Luo and Meixiang following me.

* * *

The streets of Paris were, for all intents and purposes, crazy. Most of the people walking around were probably Parisians, and the rest were tourists by the way they held up their cameras at everything they saw, whether it was a person, landmark, or maybe just the ducks swimming through the pond they passed by. I wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to just send me with the two Chinese reps instead of sending me with Louise, seeing as she could actually communicate with these people, or maybe even show us where it would be good to go. Despite that, I felt pretty safe with both Luo and Meixiang, it was hard to explain the feeling that I got from them, but seeing as neither had seen the pictures before, one was pretty much as a quick as a turtle, cerebrally speaking, and the other was sort of a one worded answer person. Granted that made her seem a bit more masculine than myself, which is all the more sad.

Going through Paris you find out a few things pretty quickly, if you're not from around here, the locals aren't exactly willing to help, and that's something I learned the hard way. Also, when you're going through Paris, never bring a guy who's never been as far as ten miles from the countryside, it makes it nearly impossible to tear the dude away from a store window where they show TVs about as long as him. Needless to say, I was beginning to come back to finding my current guardians to be more of a hassle than they were helpful, between Meixiang being as vague as a picture of Bigfoot, and Luo still going back to that one store to watch a screen he wouldn't be able to wrap his arms around, it felt like I was supposed to be paying more attention to them than they were to me.

"So, what's your plan for getting some new clothes?" Luo asked, finally able to keep himself from watching TVs. "And I guess a better question is, what's the current state of the budget we can use? It's not like we're exactly loaded are we?" he asked, the thought coming to me about that same inquiry. He was right, there wasn't a whole lot I could buy with my current money stash, and my parents weren't about to trust me with a credit card or anything like that.

"Well, there are really two options with a situation like this," I said, sitting down on one of the street benches. "One, we can take up shoplifting at any major department store," I began, both Luo and Meixiang giving off a disgruntled look. "Or we find a thrift shop somewhere, rummage sale, something like that."

"Well, I don't know how that's gonna work, but sounds like a plan," he said taking the first few steps, making me realize that I was still wearing his jacket while he was wearing nothing more on his upper body than a tank top.

"You sure you're okay without this?" I asked, lifting up the hood of his jacket. "My philosophy is, if there's snow on the ground, you probably should be wearing a jacket at least."

"I've lived north of the Yangtze River for the vast majority of my life," Luo said in response. "It's usually pretty mild up in that area of China, but in the winter, it tends to chill a bit more. I've worked in conditions worse than this. There ain't a whole lot than can bother me when it comes to temperatures."

"If you say so," I conceded, but still didn't feel too great about taking away from Luo; he just seemed like a guy who would follow after anything if it was shiny enough.

As we continued down the sidewalk, we looked down every path we could to see if there was any sign of what we were looking for, but as one would expect, all the signs were in French, and well, that's just confusing, even to me. Russian and French are pretty closely related, but the fact remains that Russian is written in an entirely other form that most people akin to Chinese kanji, and other oriental languages. I'm still learning how to speak fluent English and I'm doing okay, but reading Romanized letters is still just a bit of a problem for me. I can read it, but only in English. As for these two, it was anyone's guess how they would do with it.

"Hey, you, there!" somebody shouted from across the street. "Aren't you in that tournament starting tomorrow?" they asked as they walked over.

"Which one of us?" Luo asked, pointing to each of us individually, the boy, probably about as old as me, pointing directly at him.

"Yeah, I read your profile on the site, and found out you guys were coming here for the first tournament, and thought that if I wondered the streets for long enough, I'd be able to meet one of you," the boy said, definitely excited to be meeting one of his new heroes. "Would you please give me your autograph?" he asked, pushing a small notepad into Luo's face. "That way I know the next time I go to a tournament, I'll win for sure." Luo just looked at him with a look of disbelief.

"I think you're exaggerating my ability, but if that's all you want, sure," he said, the boy looking as though he had just won the lottery. "Who should I make this out to?" he asked, the boy introducing himself as Pierre. Original, huh? "Okay, 'to my first friend in Paris, Pierre, good luck with everything you do. Your friend, Luo," he narrated, the sound of being his friend, made Pierre practically faint from the shock.

The boy left quickly after, probably to gloat to his friends, but what would you expect from someone that age. Luo's look surprised me, though. He wasn't annoyed, he didn't give off that exasperated look of doing that before, but instead, he as genuinely glad he did that.

"What's with you?" I asked, Luo turning around to face me with a confused look on his face.

"He's a kid who just met somebody he could barely dream about meeting," Luo explained. "I don't know how it's done in the city, but where I come from, it's the greatest feeling in the world to meet somebody famous. You look at them with that look in your eye, and hope that they look down at you with a certain gleam. That kind of look that makes you feel as though they recognize you, and that they'll remember you. I've never have anyone come up to me and give me that look, and it felt good. Can't you say that you've never seen that look?"

"I see it everywhere I go," I said, walking on ahead towards another area of town. "There's not a place I've been to that hasn't seen those pictures my sister takes. There's not a town I've been to where the only they know I'm a boy is if they've seen those pictures. There's not a person who gives me that look you're talking about, but at the same time, I see one more thing in their eyes that scares me," I said, trying to force the words out of my mouth, but found myself unable to.

"Lust," Meixiang said from behind as I nodded.

"They only see me as one thing," I said. "They don't ever think of me as a person who has his own life. I'm seen only for how everyone else can perceive me, and that's why I didn't want the profile of me taken down. You say that it's a good feeling being famous; for me, it's a torture beyond what any dictator could impose on me."

Both Luo and Meixiang were silent, I didn't blame them. Hearing something come out of my mouth that was that depressing made me wonder why I hadn't gone for the trigger yet. We walked on ahead, and finally found a thrift shop, and within seconds, Luo had burst into the door, enthralled by everything he saw, and at how much of a fraction the cost was at. It seemed to both Meixiang and I that he had probably forgotten why we were her, but it really didn't matter to me much. We would be here only until I got everything I needed, and then we'd be going back to the hotel.

Walking through the different aisles, Meixiang stayed with me, giving me a basic opinion about size, and not so much about overall fashion. I couldn't help overhear several conversations by some of the patrons in the store with their eyes fixed on both of us. All throughout their conversations I was able to pick out different words having spent a bit of time in my sister's French class. Granted the only words I could pick out were "deux," "mademoiselle," and "mignonne." All of which meant "two," "girls," and "cute." I wasn't sure whether I felt like killing myself or them at that point, but over time I had come to accept that fact.

* * *

Back in the hotel, Marisol was still in her room, running through her pokémon back and forth, looking at each one, and finding that her mind kept racing back to the battle with Leon. For her, the sight of his eyes when he was using Charizard, was everything that she had been taught to fear by her own mind, and nothing could have chilled her bones anymore than that sight. As she walked out of her room, she held her head as though she were having a headache, and then felt the room just spinning slightly.

Attributing it to the fact she got up too quickly, Marisol walked back down the stairs to the main lobby, maybe to pass some time before Luo and Meixiang returned. After she reached the ground level floor, she was met by a loud cheering from the place she and Leon had battled. As she looked over to see what was happening, she saw two figures amidst the crowd; one holding his head down in defeat, and the other with his arms folded, and the most condescending look on his face. She only recognized one, and that was the one with the victorious face, only it wasn't Leon. She knew him as Mick Addison.

* * *

Mick stood at about the same height as Leon, maybe a bit shorter by a few inches, but both shared a fairly similar build, muscular, athletic, the whole nine yards, no pun intended. His hair was a dark caramel brown color, cut short like most people's, with his bangs curving upward at the tips just slightly. His eyes were a hazel color, mixing the emerald green with a deep brown that almost made him look like a heartthrob…almost. His skin tone was slightly more tan, but that could have easily just been the fact he was known to be athletic. He definitely fit the bill of a jock wearing a black football jersey over a white t-shirt, a pair of light brown khaki shorts, and a pair of black cleat shoes.

* * *

"Ha, you thought you could beat Mick Addison, huh?" he said, his arms still folded across his chest. "You probably did better than most of the competitors in this tournament, though, so props for that. Who wants some now?" he asked, standing up, and holding his arms out, as though he were the one actually engaging in the fight. "That's what Mick thought, nobody is man enough to face off against Mick Addison!" he shouted to the heavens, as though he were on the same level.

"Okay, adding a new person to my list of jerks," Marisol said quietly, noticing some of the other competitors on the benches on the outside edge of the lobby. "So what's the program here?" she asked.

"Well, we're waiting for Sasha-kun to come back with Luo-kun and Mei-chan," Naoko said, her head cupped in her hands. "Mick over there is having a good time making it known to the world that in terms of testosterone, he's number one. I'm surprised Elena-chan can stomach it," he said, pointing over towards Mick, but off to the left where another person stood who was most likely the last of the competitors in the tournament, Elena Sanchez, granted Marisol already knew her, being from the same country.

* * *

Elena stood at five foot six, so only a few inches shorter than Mick and Leon, with a golden tone to her skin color, giving her that regal appearance, much like the ivory color of Trinity's skin. Her hair was a chestnut brown color reaching down to the middle of her back in a wavy style, and her bangs reaching just shy of her emerald green eyes. Her overall body type was regularly developed, and in fit form as though she did do her own style of exercise aside from the conventional style. For her clothes, she wore a black color vest over a dark blue long sleeved shirt, a pair of blue skinny style jeans, and a pair of dark brown boots. The only other thing of note was the star shaped sapphire necklace draped over her chest.

* * *

Elena was silent, almost as though she didn't want to talk, but the aura around her almost seemed to draw others around her as she watched Mick go on his tirade about his recent victory. She shifted her eyes towards the bench where the other competitors sat, and made no other effort to speak, making no more than a small hello to the others.

"None of the people here are any good when it comes to battling," Mick began declaring to the others around him. "I mean, heck, one of our competitors is being looked after by the police because some people have a thing for traps like him. How does somebody like _that_ get into something this big?" he asked, a small twitch appearing in Naoko's, Brett's, Leon's, and Marisol's eyes. "How did this guy think he would be useful to somebody? Looking cute?" he asked, giving off a quick burst of laughter as one could see Leon holding back his anger, but barely able to. "He probably staged the whole thing so he wouldn't have to battle the real champion!" he said, as Naoko stood up, but wasn't as fast as Leon who sped towards Mick, delivering a quick blow to the face.

"You can't speak about him like that," Leon said, his head angled down, and his breathing labored. "He's stronger than any of you, and he could beat you in his sleep if he wanted to."

"Oh could he?" Mick asked, not letting the punch to his face get to him. "Then why isn't _he_ here to prove Mick wrong? Mick just has to take the word of some punk like you?" he asked, letting out another burst of laughter, but was quickly cut off by Leon picking him up by the collar, and into the air.

"You can say what you want about me," Leon said, Marisol focusing her eyes on him as his were beginning to look the same as when he used Charizard. "But I do not permit you to speak about Sasha that way! He feels their heartbeat, and he knows the power it can hold."

"Tch," Mick said, still hanging in the air in Leon's grasp. "It's nothing but data. You geeks just aren't Mick's cup of tea."

"Take it back," Leon said threateningly, bringing Mick parallel to his face, and pulling his fist back to prepare for another attack against him. "There's nothing you can say that will make me think differently, but if you question what he means to me, I will never forgive you."

"Show Mick that you're a man, then," Mick said challengingly, welcoming the attack that would soon come against him. "Show Mick how much that little jumble of pixels means you," he said as Leon stayed motionless, making no effort to complete the attack, and instead placed him back on the ground. "Told you," he said, turning around, but was quickly knocked back down.

"That's how much he means to me," Leon said, walking away from the lobby, and back into the hotel. "It will never just be a game to me."

Mick was left slightly surprised that he was actually punched over a game character, but was left with a small grin on his face, as he licked the bottom of his lip to clean up that small line of blood from his mouth. He stood back up, and sat back down at the monitor and looked over at the other competitors, giving a challengingly look.

"So which of you has the guts to take Mick on?" he asked, several of the people contemplating the idea, but none proceeded any further than where they stood. "I thought so," he said, looking back at the monitor, about to take his game system out when he felt a hand on his, leading to Elena who motioned out towards the lobby. "Ah, so the shrimp is the one," he said, noticing Naoko walking up to him with her hair shadowing her eyes from view.

"I'll protect Sasha for as long as I have to," she said, still hidden from view, looking over in the direction that Leon walked in, and saw him at the end of the hall, leaning up against the wall, but still watching. "So bring it on."

"Mick isn't responsible how much this'll hurt, girly," Mick said, plugging the game system in again as Naoko did the same. "Mick declares a double battle," he said as the screen blanked out, and returned showing all six pokémon that he had. "Pokémon three and five; that should be enough to take you out."

Naoko stayed quiet, and instead, moved her hands across the screen, choosing the top two pokémon in the two columns showed. Mick looked at her expectantly, and looked down to see the screen change to the battlefield, the battle shown to the others watching on the screen on top. As four pokéballs flew across the screen, two from each side, the other competitors watched the pokémon released from the capsules and were surprised by Naoko's choices. On Mick's side, keeping to his ground pokémon theme, a male Gliscor named Saint and a female Flygon named Bellewitz appeared, both hovering above the ground. On Naoko's side, a female Lucario named Ruko and a male Skarmory named Huru.

"This battle should be pretty open and shut based on elements," Brett said, the others looking at him for an explanation. "But the point behind those games was to see how we would act under the pressure of battling against competent trainers with pokémon strong to ours. Even if Naoko is weak to ground types being a steel trainer, she still had to find some way to get past that weakness, hence the need for Skarmory."

"Do you think she still has a chance while using Lucario?" Stuart asked, Brett looking at the other pokémon. "Weak to ground attacks, and no way of protecting it without the use of a move that will take away a turn, and give her no benefit."

"I wouldn't worry," Aspen said. "She wouldn't be in this tournament if she didn't have a bit of skill," she said, barely looking in her direction, while the other spectators did, finding that Naoko had yet to raise her head since walking over to Mick.

"What's the matter, girly?" Mick asked as mockingly as he could. "Realize you're just not up to snuff to battle with the best?"

"Don't make me laugh," Naoko said quietly while still holding her head down. "I'm more powerful than I look," she said, raising her head, but instead of the bright look in her eyes, she showed off a serious, focused face, her eyes sharpened on Mick. "Ruko-chan," she said into the microphone as the Lucario perked its ears. "Dragon Pulse," she said quietly, Mick showing off an amazed look at the speed Lucario boasted.

"Bellewitz, fight back with Outrage," he said calmly. "Saint, let's back her up with a Fire Fang," he said as Flygon's body erupted in a multi-colored inferno while Gliscor's fangs were engulfed in fire, much like how Leon's Gliscor's were, but with lightning.

As Lucario took one giant leap into the air, facing the Flygon about to ram into it, holding out one of its hands with a similar colored flame as the one engulfing Flygon, appearing in its hands. Seconds before Flygon's body rammed into Lucario's, the fight and steel mix pushed its hand forward, forcing the inferno in its hand to shoot out like a cyclone at Flygon. Due to its dragon typing, Flygon was blasted back before it could attack by what seemed like several feet on the screen above, its HP depleting down past the halfway mark, but still not defeated.

After recovering, Flygon rammed back into Lucario, thrusting it back onto the ground, leaving it with still more than half of its original HP given its steel typing. After recovering from Flygon's attack, Lucario looked up and saw Gliscor diving down with its fangs still engulfed in flames, biting down as hard as he could onto Lucario's arm. Lucario's health depleted once again, past the halfway mark, and down into the mid yellow area, with a small sliver of Gliscor's HP depleting.

"Too bad you only get extra points for the super effective move," Stuart said, stretching out his back as far as it would allow. "If it were a STAB move, it probably could've beaten that Lucario. It's still a little odd that it's faster than both of those pokémon though."

"Choice Scarf, most likely," Aspen said from aside. "A commonly used item that increases speed by about fifty percent, but still leaves you with the one move as an only option. His Quagsire uses it, helps him pretty good," she said, motioning over towards Brett who just gave her a sideways glance.

"Huru-kun," Naoko said back in the microphone as Skarmory lifted up its head. "Steel Wing on that Gliscor!" she said as the metal bird expanded its wings, and flew low to the ground parallel to Gliscor.

As it sped across the air as low as to the ground as it could, both of its wings began to shine in a white light. As it reached Gliscor, Skarmory made a quick climb, and slashed across its body twice in alternating directions, reducing its HP gauge down barely towards the halfway point of the first half of the bar. As it returned back to Naoko's side of the field, Skarmory gave a slight look back at Mick with a small amount of disdain in its eyes.

"I think he's mad at you," Naoko said, making Mick give a small burst of laughter, trying to understand what she was saying. "If Sasha believes that they have a heartbeat like Leon does, I will believe him right along. So tell me that I'm wrong!" she challenged.

"First you gotta win, which ain't happening against Mick Addison!" Mick said, gripping onto the microphone. "Bellewitz, continue with Outrage!" he shouted as both Flygon and Lucario sprang into action, the proceeding attack acting as before with Lucario's attack going off first.

As the handheld inferno was released, Flygon dove directly into it, in small false hope that it would make it through to attack Lucario, despite it being already too weak to handle another attack. After it was returned, Lucario dropped to one of its knees as it looked forward to see Gliscor speeding towards it, another Fire Fang attack prepared. Lucario lowered its head, and accepted the attack, a small twinge in Naoko's heart, felt directly afterwards. As she held her chest, she looked down, finding no injury, but instead saw the flash of Lucario being returned by the computer, and another sliver of Gliscor's attack depleting.

"I will win this for Sasha-kun," Naoko said, straightening herself back up, and looking directly at her Skarmory, showing off a small lift in its mouth. "Steel Wing, Huru-Kun!" she shouted as Skarmory flew back towards Gliscor, the result being the same amount of damage being lost on the ground and flying type.

As Skarmory returned to where it began from, Naoko looked out at Leon where he still stood, but his eyes were much more wild as though he was expecting more from her. Naoko looked down at Skarmory, and then down at Gliscor, left with half of its original HP. Her mind began racing, the loss of Gliscor's HP, the power of its Fire Fang despite not being a fire type, and then Mick's overall attitude towards the battle itself. She snapped her fingers, bringing the microphone back to her mouth, but then suddenly noticed that her screen had blanked out, and return with the heading, "BATTLE ENDED!"

* * *

"What's going on?" Naoko asked, noticing Mick placing his game system back in his pocket. "You're giving up?" she asked, Mick giving off a small chuckle.

"Luck wasn't on my side, obviously," Mick said plainly, walking away from the battle monitor. "No point in continuing a battle where the outcome is always known," he said, walking down the hallway past Naoko, and then noticed Leon still standing in the hallway. "What do you want?" he asked, walking past him, but was stopped by a sudden arm shooting out in front of him.

"You could see how when Naoko battles, her pokémon can react to her," Leon said, Mick not really paying attention. "People like that will always be better than those who look at power as only winning," he said as Mick just laughed it off, and moved his arm.

"Yeah, like this game could be anything more than that," he said, still not convinced by Leon's words alone.

"Mick Addison, when you face against Sasha in the first round, you will know what the meaning of true strength is," Leon said ominously as he walked back into the lobby, but stayed in the back as Elena walked back to the bench with Naoko.

"Talk about a sore loser," Naoko said, angered by the fact she didn't get to finish her battle with Mick. "I've dealt with those kinds of guys all the time in international battles."

"It's just how he is, we'll have to learn to get used to it," Elena explained, trying to get her to see both sides of the situation. "Besides, how do you think Sasha's doing? He's been gone for quite a while."

"Knew we should've sent him with Louise," Aspen said, falling back in her seat. "He's with Luo and Meixiang, right? Those two should keep him out of trouble."

"I don't know," Brett said. "I'm convinced that the ones who are targeting Sasha are about to make their move," he said, leaning back against the frame of the bench. "Sasha figured they let him keep the items his sister gave him as a compromise with him, right?" he asked as Aspen simply nodded in agreement. "I'm convinced that there's more going on here than just that. I think that those items aren't sentimentalities for those stalkers, but instead something even more dangerous."

"Like what?" Elena asked.

"Bargaining chips," Brett said.

Meanwhile back in the thrift shop, I was still looking through some of the clothes people had donated, and then placed my bag with my pool cue, computer, and game system on the floor next to me, while holding a jacket over my body to get a good idea as to how it would fit. As I did, I was unaware that the next development was just about to begin.

* * *

Character Appearances:

Sasha Takebana (Fighting): Gallade (Gamma), Hariyama (Alpha), Conkeldurr (Sigma), Emboar (Theta), Scrafty (Omega), last Pokémon TBA. NightFall00

Naoko Kato (Steel): Scizor (Kana), Lucario (Ruko), Skarmory (Huru), other Pokémon TBA. Cyanide the Sneasel

Marisol Torres (Electric): Jolteon (Set), Eelektross (Indra), Magnezone (Zeus), other Pokémon TBA.

Leon Ryder (Flying): Charizard, Staraptor, Gliscor, other Pokémon TBA. Jexo

Julien Durand (Grass): Pokémon TBA. KingOfStories01

Sorrel Devlin (Poison): Pokémon TBA. Ariesbird

Luo Sun (Fire): Pokémon TBA. DayBreak99

Meixiang Fong (Ice): Pokémon TBA. thesecretkeeper11

Mick Addison (Ground): Gliscor (Saint), Flygon (Bellewitz), other Pokémon TBA. CodyOnTheBounce T.V

Elena Sanchez (Ghost): Pokémon TBA. PhatomStorm and DrummerGirl

Brett Kuso (Water): Samurott, Poliwrath, Quagsire, Gyarados, other Pokémon TBA. AshKetchumDarkSide

Stuart Wakahisa (Normal): Pokémon TBA. Moth's Aflame

Akiraka "Aspen" Kizuna (Rock): Tyranitar, Gigalith, other Pokémon TBA. Crossroader32

* * *

Notes:

Bishounen: Pronounced as "Bee-show-nen," the terms literally uses the kanji for beautiful, few, and years, but is easily translated into "pretty boy" or, in some cases, "cupid." A common trope in a lot of Shoujo manga, the Bishounen character is mostly the princely kind of character all of the hopeless fan girls faun over, and another common idea about them is that characters that fall into the trope of what's known as a "shotaro boy," or a younger male character, will often grow into one of these. I don't have a lot to do with Shoujo, but seeing as Naoko fit the bill, it seemed appropriate to bring it up.

Placement Exams: Earlier in the chapter, Sasha makes a comparison between his and Marisol's intelligence by talking about placement exams in Japan. Well in any kind of education past elementary, schools in Japan usually have some kind of test to figure out what you know so they know how you rank among the other students. It's often why you see those school life anime shows with the one character having the highest grades out of all the others and getting all the respect and admiration from their peers. In a society that doesn't seem to value individualism, Japan sure knows how to make certain people stand out.

Glasses: The Japanese word for glasses, "megane," normally is used in anime to refer to a character that is fairly reserved, quiet, and stereotypically more book smart. Megane characters are normally seen in a lot of maid cafés in places like Harajuku or Akihabara. It's a fashion sense like anyone, and typically speaking, a megane character is either A, a girl who falls into the reserved category, or B, a guy who is cold, ruthless, and smart to math. I'm pretty sure Natsumi wasn't going for that second one.

Mandarin: While some may already know this, but others may not, there is no actual language called Chinese, and instead the language spoken in China is one of two predominant tongues, depending on where you live. Either you speak Cantonese, a language normally attributed with Hong Kong, and Macau, or Mandarin which is the vast majority of mainland China; Beijing, Shanghai, areas like that. There are other variations of the languages, but these are the most commonly used two, and not just in China, but in others of the world, Mandarin being the third most commonly used language in the United States.

* * *

Chapter four complete. Hopefully you all like the fact I was able to get this done within about a week. I've gotta say, some characters are harder to write with than others, Mick and Julien specifically because I'm not used to writing about cocky guys, nor am I used to writing scenes where things get a little too edgy, if you know what I mean, makes me feel awkward. Well, hope you liked the chapter, and if you did, tell me how I did, and if you didn't, tell me how I did. See what I did there? Also, two small notes, on pertaining to the story. First, in the story whenever a scene doesn't include Sasha, it is in third person, so keep that in mind, and B, there's a poll on my profile if you want to check that out, has nothing to do with the story, just something I want to figure out. Ja nee.


	6. Gamble

Well, here we go with the next chapter of Pokémon VGC, and with this all of the different competitors have been introduced, and after this chapter, I have only two more to do the same to, the two tournament representatives who act as, for lack of a better term, guardians, legal reps, and referees in the tournament. These were OCs made by people who wanted to make one but were too late in finding the story, so I extended that opportunity to them. These characters, as said in the last chapter, are charged with taking care of Sasha until whoever ransacked his room is caught, as you learned last chapter, and I think a recap overall should be good. Last chapter, we met Sorrel, Luo, Meixiang, Mick, and Elena with Sasha spending the day with the two reps from China. Sorrel was introduced in passing, much like Trinity, and Mick and Elena were met in the hotel lobby where Mick retreated in a failed battle against Naoko. Brett makes a fairly ominous realization about the reason why Sasha's admirers allowed him to keep some of his effects, and that's where we lead off with this chapter.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Gamble

An unnecessary risk is what people really call a gamble; a wager you make that you don't really have to. When people gamble, though, they use some sort of reason to make it seem like what they did was actually necessary. Gambling, really, comes in several forms, two in general, though; luck based gambling, and skill based gambling. When people gamble based on luck, it's always in a game like poker, Texas Hold 'Em, slot machines, roulette a game where everything has a generally equal chance of happening; granted this is one where people tend to lose the most money. Then there's gambling based on a person's skill, games like billiards, when the base of the game is to be better than the other at a simple aspect, which doesn't sound like gambling, but still holds true to chance based situations. What if you opponent is better than you? What if you have a bad set-up to where there is no possible outcome for you? What if you think you're right when all along, you could be wrong?

* * *

Meixiang and Luo had already left the clothing aisle of the thrift store, and began looking at their own interests, what that was didn't really come to me. As for me, I was still looking at myself in the mirror on the wall adjacent to the long racks of clothes, trying to see if what I was choosing would actually fit me. I hung the clothes back on their hangers, and reached for the strap of me bag, slinging it back over my shoulder as I looked through the rack. I reached behind me, feeling the rubber tip at the end of the bottom half of my pool cue. Feeling the tightly grained maple wood in my closed hand, the feeling brought back one of the several memories I had never really understood how I felt about it.

* * *

I was about eleven, and staying with me sister for about three weeks while my parents were in Milan. Having been my sister's dress up doll for the past three years prior had made me not exactly the happiest child. My parents were about as oblivious as they always had been, and I wasn't about to tell them that there were a bunch of pictures of me dressed as a girl on the internet where just about anyone could see it. I wasn't sure whether my father would scold me for not fighting back, my mother would encourage Natsumi, or the combined forces of both parents would lead to an ugly divorce. In retrospect, I probably would've gone with that third option back then, had I known it would keep Natsumi away from me, but I digress.

As always, my parents left me at the airport where we would go our separate ways, by which time had become more of formality that anything. There was no goodbye said from any of us, no hug, not even so much as a "have fun," but, by now, I was used to it. As I've said a few times before, my flight was always straight to Hokkaido, so there was always some kind of turbulence over Siberia. I flew coach because I hated the first class seats, which was the only thing that my parents ever did to make sure I was comfortable. I preferred to sit by the window, right next to the wing, watching it cut through the clouds as though it were a sword with power unimaginable to destroy what God had given us. I clutched my rosary, and looked back through the rest of the plane, finding it to be one of the most eclectic groups ever. It's what I loved to watch, different people of all groups able to sit with each other.

Halfway through the flight, I noticed a girl about the same age as me at the time looking at me from behind her seat. She looked down at me with studying eyes, and gave me a small smile as I returned it. Her name was, I believe, Tamara, a name I heard a lot where I lived. She was like everyone else I met, and saw me as a girl without hesitation, so we just began to talk. She was flying with her family, and twice they asked her to sit down so she wouldn't get hurt, but each time, she just stood back up on her seat and talked to me. I can't even remember what we talked about at the time, probably something girly given our ages, but by the end of the flight, I never saw her again.

My thoughts were still about Tamara, even as I walked into the airport, my sister greeting me outside the gate near my baggage claim. As I reached down for my bag, my hand touched another, missing it by no more than an inch, and I found it to be Tamara. It had been like we were separated for years, and were just reunited, but even I knew that something like that was silly to think about. Natsumi asked who she was, and I answered promptly, my sister walking around to study Tamara from head to toe. By this time, Natsumi was eighteen, and still living in her high school dorm, graduation nearly a week away. She then reached around me, and pulled me closer to her, Tamara looking at both of us in shock, as Natsumi gave her a sly look, while stroking my head like a pet. I'll never forget the disgust in her eyes that she gave me, calling me an incestuous wretch.

Natsumi was one of the only girls in her school to have her driver's license, so it was never a problem finding our way back to her school. The comment from Tamara was still bugging me, but I kept quiet about it for some reason, Natsumi seeing right through me as we pulled up to her dorm building. She helped me with my bag, and I collapsed onto the bed in her room, my thoughts still on that one word. Natsumi followed shortly after, running into one of her friends from school, and stopping to talk to her. As she walked back in, chuckling over her conversation, she sat down at her desk, and I decided to get answers.

"Natsumi-nee?" I asked as she turned around, looking at me expectantly. "What did that word mean?" I asked, as she looked at me confused. "That girl Tamara called me incestuous. What does that mean?"

"Oh," she said, chuckling slightly as she sat down next to me, wrapping her arms around my head, and pulling me in close. "It means that you have a thing for a family member," she explained, still holding me as possessively as she could. "I wanted to see how she would react if she saw how we usually are, and obviously I found something out about you, Sasha-kun," she said, poking the end of my nose.

"What was that? That everything you do to me is completely a one-sided deal?" I asked, Natsumi giving me a cross eyed look, trying to hold back a small chuckle.

"No, that no matter how you're seen, as a boy, or as a girl," she started, my patience growing thin. "You're a total chick magnet," she said, practically bursting out laughing, me standing up trying to defend myself.

"You're wrong," I said, thinking about every single girl that ever picked on me. "Girls are always poking me with their pencils, they like to gang up on me at recess, and they keep getting mad that the guys at school think _I'm_ the cuter one," I said, Natsumi giving me a triumphant look as though I had just dug myself a six foot grave.

"Girls don't pick on little boys like you because they don't like you," she began to explain, although by this time, I had become a master at drowning my sister out. "They do it _because_ they like you. When you're young as a girl, you try to do everything you can to make it seem like you don't like a boy by being mean to them. But, I reality, you're trying to make them notice you so that you can show them, you like them."

"You're saying that Tamara had a crush on me after a six hour flight?" I asked, standing up, looking at her in disbelief. "And that it didn't matter to her whether I was a guy or a girl."

"Yeah, you may want to be careful around girls like that," Natsumi explained, confusing me indefinitely by that point. "Girls like Tamara don't care if you're a guy or a girl; if you're cute enough they'll go in for the kill."

"You make it sound she was prepared to attack me," I said, still thinking on what she was meaning. "Are you saying that Tamara would like me regardless of whether I was a boy or a girl?" I asked, seeing Natsumi only nod. "But if that was the case, she'd have to be a…oh," I said, finally understand every hidden meaning, Natsumi still looking at me, seeing as she had the argument won probably since before it started…as usual. "Why do you always have to win these things, Natsumi-nee? Before I used to be able to beat you intellectually, now you're trolling me."

"I do what I can for my adorable little brother," she said, pushing me down against the bed. "Shall we get today's fun under way?" she asked, my head sinking down past my shoulders, full-well knowing what she had planned.

I don't know which file she made that day, but all I know is that now; I have a distinct fear of Chinese clothes…ponder that for a while. We finished at around ten that night; I wasn't too thrilled to be there already, but there was literally nothing I could do. I changed back into my own clothes, and walked back into her room as she uploaded the new pictures for, I believe, file number thirty two. I don't know what's worse, the fact that I know she put them in files at that time, or the fact I still know which number.

"Well that was fun," she said, walking back from her laptop, and sitting down over me on the bed. "Are you still sore at me?" she asked mockingly as she poked my cheek. "You seem a bit more tense than usual."

"I guess it's just the idea that you could see something that I couldn't," I answered. "I couldn't see Tamara liked me in that way regardless of my gender, and I couldn't see how you showing her how you always are with me, was meant to protect me from her."

"Well, you figured it out eventually," she complimented, running her hand over my head. "That's gotta speak for something, which reminds me of something we need to discuss," she said walking back to her desk, pulling out a note from underneath a pile of papers. "My homeroom teacher has asked that you not come into class while you're staying here," she explained, showing me the small paper. "We're finishing up our last unit in her history class, and it so happens to be the Russo-Japanese war, and she'd rather not have you correct her when she's wrong."

"I only correct her when she's wrong about the Russian pronunciation," I said, feeling a bit ore superior by that point to at least one older woman. "And when she portrays the Russian army as a bunch of buffoons. She's not supposed to add in her own input."

"At any rate," Natsumi said, standing up. "She doesn't want you coming in to class, and you know it might not be a bad idea for your own safety."

"You say that, but last time I came into your class, we were the first ones, twenty minutes early, by _your_ instruction, and those girls practically violated every area of my body," I said, Natsumi chuckling slightly as she remembered said experience. "So what do you expect me to do while you're at school? I can't stay in here because the last that happened, the janitor nearly had me arrested."

"Actually I anticipated this," she said, searching through her room, and then into her closet, pulling out a rectangular black case. "The dorms here have a recreation center, but the equipment's been getting bad, so I figured this would give you something to do," she explained as I opened the case, to find the pool cue I always had with me. I ran my fingers along the maple shaft, and sighed out of thanks. "Maybe we can get some pictures with you_ on_ that pool table?" she suggested, pushing me back down onto the bed, and cuddling up against me as she fell asleep almost as quickly as I did.

* * *

With the memory ended, my mind wasn't sure if the pool cue, now sticking out of the side of my bag, as my case wouldn't fit inside, was a reminder of how my sister tried to keep me out of her classes, or if she did it out of the goodness of her heart. At any rate, the shaft, or bottom of the pool cue, was still stuck in my grip, the blue colored wood expertly painted, and vividly shown. I looked around me, and as far as I knew, both of my "chaperones" were elsewhere. If I had to guess, Meixiang was probably in the woman's section, and Luo was probably in the dishware, all kinds of shiny objects there. I probably was being overly critical of his overall intelligence, but, I probably was too far off.

I looked in my free arm, finding several clothing items I picked out, and decided to try them on. I walked into the changing rooms, and took off my disguise, flipping out my hair after having it be constricted under my normal jacket. Shaking it loose, I looked at my myself in the mirror, and looked back down at my bag, thinking about my other two items, my game system and laptop, both items given to me on my birthdays after the year she gave me the pool cue. I looked back at myself in the mirror, wondering if what Naoko said earlier that morning would actually come true; would I really grow out of this body, and become a regular person, or would I be forever cursed to look like this.

My thoughts, however, were interrupted at the sound of a sudden rapping on the door to the dressing room. My mind came up with three possibilities for who was on the other side; either Luo or Meixiang making sure I was still okay, a clerk from the store wondering the same thing as it had been several minutes since I entered, or another customer hoping to get into this one if the other stalls were occupied. I walked towards the door, ignoring my little voice saying that there was one other option, and not one that I was going to like. I slowly unlatched the door, and eased it open, feeling a sudden push up against it, as though someone were trying to force their way in. My breathing quickened, I wasn't just nervous about it anymore, I was terrified.

"_How did they know I'd be here?"_ I asked myself, looking around at anything that would've tipped them off. My eyes scanned the small room, and then fixed themselves on my bag, the maple shaft of my pool cue sticking out from one side. _"They left that alone so they could find me, perhaps. Or did it have to do with Luo and Meixiang; people of that ethnic orientation in a place like this can easily be recognized?"_ I said to myself, barely able to keep the door closed from the constant pushing against it.

As the banging against the door continued, I kept asking myself why nobody was trying to stop it, but that thought became my own undoing as I relaxed my pressure on the door, giving whoever it was just the right amount of leverage. The door swung open far enough in front of me, striking me across the front of my face, easily forcing me to the ground, barely conscience where I laid down. I could hear several footsteps walking into the room with me, but I couldn't make out any of the faces staring down at me. All I knew was that they won, and I was the one that was going to pay for not being more careful.

I was barely awake as I felt my wrists being tied together with some thin ribbon, and was hoisted onto one of their backs as they walked out of the dressing room area, the two ends of my pool cue banging together meaning that they were bringing them with us. It must've looked like a child being taken away by his siblings, minus the ribbon, and the constant stroking of my hair, but nevertheless, nobody around us was taking any measures to stop us, nor were they even looking our direction by that time. I gave up and began to succumb to the throbbing of my head, forcing me into unconsciousness, when I heard the sound of a vase breaking.

"Where do you think you're going with him?" a voice asked, making me open my eyes as wide as I can, whoever carrying me turning around. "I've been charged with his protection and that's just what I'm gonna do," they said, I knew the voice was Luo's. "Meixiang, cut 'em off!" he shouted, making the people around me look in all directions for whoever he was talking about.

Behind them, I smiled slightly at the sight of Meixiang holding up a tagged item, the security badge still on it. As she smirked slightly, she threw it into the doorway, allowing the alarm in the building to go off, and the doors to slam shut. I felt them ease me down, and place me in front of them; my hands still tied together, and my eyes still too out of sorts to see who they were. The alarm ceased after Luo and Meixiang saw me on the ground, and the doors opened up, giving them time to run through, only one thing catching my eye; they still had my bag. I reached out to follow them, snapping the ribbon in one motion, but was held down by Luo who tried to ease me into a more comfortable position as I fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Are you saying that both of you were in other places while he was being kidnapped by those monsters?" I heard an angry voice ask as I began to wake up. "He could've been really hurt if they had him for too long," I chuckled at the familiar voice Marisol gave off when she was mad; it was like Natsumi's.

"We're sorry," Luo said, as both he and Meixiang bowed to her apologetically, the young woman from Spain still not letting up on them.

"That isn't going to be good enough!" she shouted at both of them, the two of them tensing their shoulders at how loud she was now speaking. "When he wakes up, you two are definitely going to have to apologize!" she said, reminding me of how a mother was supposed to act.

"We will," Meixiang said quietly, definite remorse in her voice from what I could hear as they both left the room, Marisol turning around to find me awake, and definitely aware of the conversation they just had.

"I take it you heard?" she asked, me just giving off a small nod to show my understanding. "I'm sorry those two weren't exactly the best of bodyguards we could've come up with. I'm sure the tournament reps coming tonight will be much better."

"I'm not worried about that," I admitted, Marisol looking at me with disbelief. "Them not being competent isn't on my list of concerns seeing as they stole my bag," I explained, Marisol still not quite understand what I was saying. "That bag had everything I owned after they ransacked my room, and now they have it with them, and who knows what they're going to do with it."

"Was your game in there?" she asked, as I shook my head, pulling out my game system from my back pocket. "Did you put it in there when you thought something was off? Or was it always in there?"

"No, I think they put it back in there for me," I said, opening up the double screen, still finding the special pokémon game inside. "They were there for about ten seconds after they put me down. That was more than enough time to put it where it is now. But now they have both my laptop and my computer."

"We'll let the police handle that," Marisol said, walking towards her own bed. "As for you, though, you are not going to be able to leave this hotel room until those three are caught. And I will personally be keeping you in here until the referees for the tournament show up. So if you even think about running, I know exactly how to get you to stay asleep," she said, motioning towards the end of my bed, a small control system for an electric blanket showing through.

"Of course," I said, looking at the brand, and smiling slightly. "You guys have talked to Natsumi-nee, haven't you?"

"That we did," somebody said from the outside of the room. "And I will never say I don't fully regret it," he said, walking in from the shadows, revealed to be Brett. "That sister of yours and you share nothing in common, it's a wonder you two share the same mother. But she did explain a bit about your situation with these girls, and we may have found some stuff up, if you're willing to hear it."

"There's nothing you can say that's gonna scare me any more than what happened to me just a few hours ago," I said, Brett nodding in agreement as he took in a breath before speaking.

"She told us that those three were common names on the sight," he explained. "That all three of them have been viewing your pictures since you were ten years old, and have made it their life's mission to find you, and others like you," he continued, making me look at him confused. "They call themselves the 'TrapHunters,' using the obvious euphemism to describe people like you. They don't hurt people like you, but seeing as they finally found the ultimate object of their affection, I wouldn't be surprised if they started to become more aggressive with people just to vent their frustrations."

"I know about them," I said, Brett looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. "I remember the name from a few of the pictures that were more popular than the others on that site. They were usually the most edgy of the pictures my sister took, and the only satisfaction I ever got out of her taking those pictures was that she regretted showing off her little brother like that. But she didn't have the authority to remove them because of those three."

"How could the user not have the authority to change the pictures visible on her page?" Marisol asked, putting away the sunglasses I borrowed from her.

"The people that call themselves the 'TrapHunters' obviously used an online petition to overrule the decision his sister wanted to make," Aspen said from the other side of Brett. "It's obvious that that was the case because of how diligent they pursue him. They'd do anything to see him like that. Even if it meant overthrowing the one who started it in the first place."

"It's not my sister's fault that they became like this," I said quickly, almost angered at how Aspen was speaking of my sister. "They chose their path, and they would have ended up like that, regardless of whether it was me or another."

"The fact remains that we are all in agreement that you are not to leave the hotel until the tournament reps come for you later tonight," Brett said, all three of the competitors in the room looking down at me with a demanding eye. "And don't think that we won't try and stop you, just so you can get your bag from them."

As they left, my eyes dimmed at the sound of them having my bag, my computer, one of my most treasured possessions. But for some reason, I never knew why I cared so much about that pool stick, and chances were if I wasn't able to get it back, I'd never know why it meant so much to me. I looked back at Marisol, and I could tell she was even more diligent about keeping me in her room, to the point I was skeptical of her letting me out for anything. I fell back down on the bed, and closed my eyes, trying to find some way to get any more sleep, seeing as I had been asleep since I was brought back here. The time on the clock, twenty minutes after one.

* * *

Outside of the room, Aspen and Brett both stood against the wall, looking at the other, both of them thinking the same thing as they walked away from the door, and towards the elevator. Inside the cart, leading to the lower floor, Aspen shifted her eyes back and forth from where she stood, and to where Brett was, trying to find some way to bring up her question.

"We both know he'll try to escape tonight," he said, anticipating her question. "But keep in mind he's just a little kid. He has no more strength in me as that idiot Mick has true confidence. If he does try to escape, we'll catch him before he can even get down the hallway."

"I'm not so sure," Aspen said, Brett looking down at her with a questioning eye. "You saw how special those item were to him, especially that pool cue. They're memories of his sister that showed her as more than the woman he's always known her as. Just by giving him those items, he'd be willing to go through heaven and hell to get them back. And the way this is turning out, he'd be better off going into the inferno than being caught by those witches."

"At least we agree on something," Brett said. "Sasha is an irrational person who makes anything sound worth it, and by the same reasoning, he's a fool to think himself stronger than those girls. He thinks he knows how dangerous they can be, but we both know what Naoko and Alexander found about them fairly quickly."

"Their usernames are like a lot of friends on the internet, they all share a few similarities in the way they name themselves," Aspen said, making it clear to Brett she did remember. "TrapHunters is the group, but they can't all keep the same name, so they have to change it slightly, and that's where things got scary for all of us."

"They named themselves 'Alpha,' 'Omega,' and 'Gamma,'" he said, Aspen shivering at the sound of how they were named. "They became infatuated with him so much; they followed every part of his life, down to his pokémon hobby, which is why they left the game system with him. Every team of pokémon Sasha has used incorporated his Greek heritage by the naming of them, his sister made that clear. They named themselves after the pokémon he used in tournaments, before just knowing themselves as 'TrapHunters,' and then adding some silly word after it, but now becoming a legitimate force against Sasha."

"And the ironic part," Aspen said as the elevator doors opened. "Their leader is the one that calls herself 'Gamma,'" she said, Brett closing his eyes to hold himself back at the name.

"The name of the pokémon that means more to Sasha than any other," he said, before disappearing in the small parts of shadows in the gap of the windows in the hallway.

* * *

In the lobby of the hotel, Naoko sat in the same place she had sat when she battled Mick only hours previously. Her hands scanned the screen she faced, while lightly touching it, not realizing of who was standing behind her. As she heaved out a sigh, she felt somebody walk past her, making her jump slightly, finding Elena sitting in front of her, the computer monitors being the only thing separating them. As she calmed herself down, Naoko looked straight ahead at the other Spanish rep, and tried to find something to say, but was at a loss for how to bring it to the words.

"He thought you lost him, didn't you?" Elena asked, Naoko looked up at her, looking at her with shocked eyes. "My apologies, that was too abrupt of me to say," she said, bowing slightly, Naoko shaking her head from side to side.

"No, I think I needed to hear what I was feeling inside at that point," she said, thinking about Sasha in the position he was in just two hours before he was brought back to the hotel on Luo's back. "Have you ever felt that way when you meet someone, and you just always want to help them, no matter what it might do to you in the long run?"

"I have," Elena answered, Naoko sighing out of relief at her answer. "It's called being in love," she said as gently as she could, but still came across as blunt to Naoko who almost fell out of her seat at the notion. "My apologies, but I figured you saw it as the same thing. Do you not?" she asked.

"How could I be in love with Sasha-kun?" she asked, Elena looking at her with a small smile. "I'm not. He's just somebody I want to help when he has a problem because I can't stand seeing him get hurt by those girls who just want to monopolize him. Hey, you said you felt the same way," she said, Elena moving a bit further back, embarrassed at her mistake. "So spill," she said, Elena turning away slightly. "It can't be Mick," Naoko said, slightly disgusted by the notion herself.

"No," she said, shaking her head slightly. "But I don't think I should have to tell you," she said, Naoko looking at her mischievously. "I hate it when I speak this way, anyway," she said as she noticed Naoko directly in front of her. "Um, what are you going to do?" she asked, watching Naoko slowly reach out her hand, and quickly attacked her in a tickling fury.

"Come on, Elena-chan, spill," Naoko said, not letting Elena find any chance to rest from her torture. "Besides, your voice is so cute when you talk, I'm sure he must feel the same way. I wish I talked a little like you, but maybe I'm just not mature enough to speak like you, yet."

"Are you sure we're on the same page?" Elena asked, her breathing definitely becoming more labored after what Naoko did. "Because I wasn't talking about the tone of voice, but the accent."

"Oh, is that all?" Naoko asked, holding Elena down while staring down at her. "If you really like a guy, you shouldn't care about whether or not you sound funny, you have an accent, or even if you have something else wrong with you. If you're sure about him, he'll like you for you."

"I wish stuff happened like that," Elena said, sitting up straight, still looking at Naoko who was eagerly waiting her answer. "I'm still not gonna say it until you admit you like the little Sasha," she said, teasingly, a wide smile across her face as Naoko's cheeks erupted into a deep red color.

"You'll pay for that one!" Naoko shouted jumping on top of her, continuing with the same torture, letting the screams of regret from Elena echo throughout the hotel, nobody bothering to help her, knowing that if it was from Naoko, it was all in fun…hopefully.

* * *

I was still in my room, being watched by Marisol, and believe me when I say that it was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. Every move I made was instantly followed by her eyes, no matter which direction I tried to go in, and it made me look at her a bit differently. I had always figured that Marisol wasn't the brightest bulb in the world, but then I began to compare her to Luo who really would have needed help if it came to watching me. I knew that if I was going to get any privacy to sort out my thoughts, then I was going to need some kind of trick to get her out.

I lied down on my back, watching the hands on the clock on the wall moving slower and slower, realizing it had only been about half an hour since I was confined to my quarters. Thinking back to when I was eight and my parents left me, thinking that time had forgotten about me, I was beginning to wish for that feeling again, maybe make this waiting seem a little more intolerable. I turned over in my position to keep myself from facing Marisol who just kept the same look on her face as I faced the wall next to my bed.

"_She's too serious about this,"_ I noticed. _"She only needs me for her personal agenda. If I wasn't her partner she would be caring so much about me leaving, I'm sure of it. But maybe I'm thinking too small of her. Maybe she's more like my sister than I think; she could have a protective side to her,"_ I thought, turning around, finding Marisol staring down at me, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

"I'm going to get some lunch, what do you want?" she asked, indicating she would be leaving the room. "If you just want whatever I find, that's probably best," she said, as I nodded silently. "I'll be locking you in so no one's going to bother you till I get back, okay?" she explained as it confused me slightly how she would ensure nobody was going to get into my room, even if I was still inside.

My question was answered all too quickly, as I could feel Marisol already tightening one of the ribbons from her hair supply kit on the table around my wrists after sticking them through the bed post. I smiled with a frustrated look on my eyes as she looked down at her work satisfactorily, patting my cheek as she left the room, taking the key with her, and pulling the latch shut. The only plus side to this was the fact that I was alone, regardless of position, and could finally sort out my thoughts.

First off, there was the fact that those three gave me up too quickly. They could have easily taken me after the alarm ended, and opened the doors, but instead, they just gave me up as quickly as they were able to get me. If they really were after me, they would have left my bag, and taken me with them, but instead they just took my bag. Second thing that bugged me was that they only took the bag. The contents of that bag were special only to me, and were easily purchased at any major department store. True that stalkers will take items of their subject to feel closer to them, but if that were the case they would've just taken them when they ransacked my room. What use could they have for them in this stage of their sick game.

Next, there was the issue with the whole theatrics of it. In a store where any could've seen them, they practically bashed that door in, as though all of them were in on it, tied me up, and then carried me out like it was no big deal. Nobody bothered to help me except for the people that knew what was going on, and even then, the whole thing was done within minutes. Finally, why did they give me back my game? If they had a reason for taking a laptop and a pool cue, why not a game system and cartridge that's worth more than both of those items combined? Nothing about their actions was making any sense to me, but everything seemed to be rising to a climax that would ultimately end in their victory of having me as their prize. It was as if their actions weren't their own, and somebody else was telling them what do to, whether it made sense to them or not.

My train of thought, as it must always be, was broken by a sudden ringing of the room telephone making me look at the ribbon keeping me in place, wondering if I would've been able to get it loose before the fourth ring, leading the one on the speaking end to the voice messaging function. I began rotating my hands in opposite directions, hoping to make some kind of leverage in the knot, but by the third ring, I was only beginning to make progress, and by the fourth ring, I had all but given up. The voice mail gave its usual message regarding if the caller wanted to leave a message and to wait for the tone. Mouthing along the best I could with the message, I waited for the beep, and then heard the most terrifying sound on the other end of the line.

"Don't you look comfy down there, Sasha?" a voice asked, undeniably female. "I wouldn't worry about staying there for too long, Marisol is a big softy when it comes to little boys like you. What you need to do is find one of us, and you'll see how girls should treat boys like you. But I'm sure even my lovely voice won't be enough to convince you, huh? So what if I promise you your stick back?" she asked, my eyes widening in shock. "Your computer will be part of the bargain, of course. We can talk about this later, but you have to get out of there first. We'll be waiting at the Louvre museum. You should be able to find it before eight tonight, right?" she asked, two other voices chuckling on the other end. "Trust me when we say this, though, we always know how to trap the traps. Bye-bye," she said playfully, with a kissing sound on the other line follow by two more.

"_Well, there's another thing that I now need to worry about," _I said to myself, hearing the message end, asking me if I wanted to delete the message. Hoping it was voice activated I said "yes," and sure enough, the machine said "Message Deleted, you have no more messages."

I sighed out of relief, knowing that Marisol would be unable to hear the message, and leave the matter to the police, because even I know that I would never get anything back from a situation like that. Instead, I was thinking more of how I was going to be able to get out of the hotel, and over to the Louvre, assuming I could find it. It would be about five more hours until dinner, and I wasn't even sure that she would be leaving without doing this to me again, and let me tell you, this girl could easily pass as a boy scout.

Marisol walked back into the room about fifteen minutes after the call was made, and walked back over to me, chuckling at seeing how I had failed to go anywhere since she left. She placed a bag of food on the dresser next to my bed, and reached over me to begin untying the knot in the ribbon. As I felt the tight pressure leave, I sighed out of relief, but then looked up, seeing Marisol's face definitely depressed at the sight of my own, and I had to think it had more to do with when she battled with Leon than with me. I wanted to ask her, but like the last time, my mouth wouldn't move, and no sound would come out even if I was able to open it. Marisol just looked down at me, and saw me trying to say something, but covered my mouth, shaking her finger at me as though I were being punished for acting bad.

"Hope you like croissants," she said, throwing the bag towards me. "It was all I could find that was close to the hotel without leaving you alone longer than I had to. I would've gone out further had I not been the one to become your baby sitter, but what can I do?" she asked, chuckling as I looked down at my food, and began to eat it slowly. "Why do you have to be so overbearing about everything around you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, already knowing what she meant.

"You have a constant need to be part of everything that happens with this tournament, as though you're the one responsible for something going on at all times," she said. "When I came back from my battle with Leon, you thought you had to know everything, when you found out about your two friends from Japan battling, you thought you had to know everything. Why do you always concern yourself with every problem, and never just look at the glass as half full?"

"Because people like me aren't meant to be happy," I said, annoyed by the fact she thought I was getting myself involved where I shouldn't have. She looked at me surprised by the tone of voice I had, and I couldn't help but feel apologetic. "When you're never seen as who you actually are, you begin to feel that every single chance you get, you have to fix the problems of everyone around you so they don't have to end up like you. The few happy moments I have of the person who actually cared about me are in the hands of other people who would seek to make me nothing more than an object, and you ask me why I think on everything around me. I just look at people like you, barely thinking about the problems of others and I want to be like you people. Never having to wonder what people think of you as you walk down the street, never having to think about the next problem that you have to overcome each day, or to keep finding and never having it leave, and never going through life thinking that you aren't worth it anymore because there's only one or two people who actually care about you."

Marisol stayed quiet, which seemed to become a trend after I went on some kind of tirade, the person I was talking to fell silent, and waited for me to calm down. It just seemed like I became nothing more than a loose cannon, shooting my mouth as fast as I could, trying to drill in the point that my life has been nearly terrible since I met Natsumi. I would never say it out loud, but part of me wishes I had died that day, and that this never happened to me.

"You're an idiot, Sasha," Marisol said, standing up, being the first to ever come back at one of my speeches. "You think I don't have a care in the world?" she asked, folding her arm across her chest. "Have you ever been compared to another person for the entirety of your life, being expected to be just like them, and then have people never believe in you because you couldn't do it. We all have reasons why we do things, and mine for being who I am is because of her, and I won't let someone like you saying that people who are happy don't have to worry about things. I need you to step out of her shadow, and you need me to establish who you are with the rest of the world," she said, making me look at her with new respect; seeing as I only saw her as a shallow person who had no further use for me outside this tournament.

I wanted to apologize to her, but still found myself unable, and the silence in the room continued for several minutes as I fell back on the bed, leaving the rest of my food back on the dresser beside me. I placed my arm over my eyes to try and find some way to sleep, still knowing that Marisol would be there when I woke up, but at the moment, I could've lived with anything she'd try to do to me. I'm a pretty fast sleeper, so as soon as I was finally able to relax about my surrounded, I was out.

* * *

Marisol turned to face me, seeing my easy breathing, and small smile on my face, bringing a similar smile to her own face. She walked back over to me, and brought one of the blankets back over me, trying to make me more comfortable, but suddenly stopped after hearing a small breathy sound from my mouth. The sound that came out made her look back down at me and smile until she heard the sudden beeping of the voice mail behind her, almost making her jump out of her skin.

She walked over to the small machine, showing a record of the deleted messages across the screen, asking if she would like any of them restored. Recognizing the time on each one, she reached for the X-shaped button, but then noticed the message left for me almost ten minutes after she had left. Clicking the restore button, Marisol listened to the entirety of the message, and then looked back at where I slept, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"He could trust me at that point, huh?" she asked, writing down the specifics of the message, and walking back over to me, the ribbon in her hand, tying my wrists back into place. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this, otherwise I know that you'll get hurt by them," she told me, as though believing I could hear her. "Oh, but I can't take them on by myself, and if I call the cops you can be that one of those two things is gonna get axed. I need help, but where can I find it?" she asked, looking out at the door, quickly taking her piece of paper, and leaving me asleep, and tied up in the room.

As she pulled the latch shut, Marisol walked down the hallway, passing by Julien, who, before even being able to wave hello, was grabbed by the collar of his shirt, and almost demanded by her to get the other competitors in the lobby. As he skittishly nodded, Julien couldn't help but cringe as he walked away from her out of fear of being that close to her, especially how she acted with him earlier that day.

* * *

Down in the main lobby, Marisol began walking among the other competitors as they showed up one by one; Brett, Aspen, Naoko, Leon, Trinity, Alexander, Julien, Louise, Meixiang, Luo, Stuart, Mick, Elena, and Sorrel. Julien stood up from amid the fifteen of them, and tried to speak for Marisol on the subject, but was quickly brought down by the Spanish rep, holding up the notepad with the details of the letter written on it. As she sat back down, she began to look at the note, and wondered if she was even doing the right thing, seeing as this really was her partner's problem.

"Okay, so we all know that Sasha had his bag stolen today by that group of girls named the TrapHunters," Marisol started off, several of the competitors nodding in understanding. "Well, it seemed that they tried to make contact with him," she said, Naoko's eyes widening in fear at the sound of those three trying to get close to Sasha. "They've made a deal for his bag, stating that he has to be at the Louvre museum by eight o' clock if he wants both his pool cue and his laptop back. Obviously if we call the police, they'll destroy the items, and in the end, Sasha will probably never trust any of us again.

"Like that's a big deal," Mick said from the center of the group, receiving several glares from the others. "Oh, come on, you all don't think it might be fun to see that little trap cry for a bit? Because I know I'd be laughing my head off."

"He's cried enough," Leon said, taking the notepad from Marisol, reading through the specs of the note, and looking back in the direction of the hallway that would eventually lead to where Sasha was at that point. "Anybody got any ideas?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," Mick said, letting the others look at him expectantly. "Eat a late dinner so we'll miss the rendezvous time," he said quickly, bursting into laughter, of course, being the only one. "Oh, come on, why do we even care about this little brat, anyway? He needs to learn to toughen up a little bit, if you ask me."

"Yeah, well, nobody was asking you, now were we?" Brett asked, looking back up at Leon. "I'd say that we probably should run this by Sasha so he knows were on his side. We go about this alone, he may try and come with us, and if he does that without our knowing, there's no telling what would happen to him."

"I don't think so," Leon said, reading through the spec of the note. "Even if we tell Sasha that we're on his side, there's no keeping him here if we're all going. So, my thought is to take Brett, Mick, Stuart, Julien, Luo, and myself to the Louvre so we can confront these girls, and then have the girls stay here with Sasha in case he tries anything funny."

"What's he gonna do?" Louise asked, already knowing full well what Marisol had done. "He's tied up in that room of theirs so he can't so much as go to the bathroom," she said, everyone looking over at Marisol who held her hands up in defense, noticing the nostril flare from Naoko by this point. "Getting a little racy over in here, isn't it?" she asked.

"No thanks to you, let me tell you," Leon said, placing the notepad on one of the tables in the lobby. "Fact remains though, it'd probably be best if we leave Sasha out of this; we've got more than enough man power to take those things back, and then take those girls to justice."

"Or out on the town," Mick said directly after, receiving a small chuckle from some of the others, even a small smirk from Leon. "I knew even you couldn't resist that kind of joke. So, when do you wanna go confront these girls, because if they really have a thing for younger guys, this Mick Addison will have no problems in dressing up like a little kid if it meant getting some," he said, his humor having run out as he continued to receive more glares from the others.

"Yeah, not so much," Leon said, looking at the time on the clock, reading five minutes to three.

* * *

Back in my and Marisol's room, I woke up sometime later, maybe around five o' clock, and noticed myself in the same position, and then over at the voice mail with the message from the girls reading across the machine's screen. I gave out an exasperated sigh, and began rotating my wrists again, hoping to find some way to get out of my current predicament, among others, and hopefully beat Marisol before she got the authorities to the Louvre. Finding the knot to be tighter than the one before, I closed my eyes slightly, and flattened out my fingers, and began angling them to try and figure out the basic design of the knot.

"Marisol may have had a future in the boy scouts, but I can bring them to their knees," I said aloud, pinching one of the strings in the knot, and then pulling it far as it could before I could feel a lot of the tightness of the string lessen. "There we go," I said, the knot almost undoing itself as I worked it out, and the ribbon lay limp against my wrists.

I rubbed my wrists, after having caused the marks on them to become deeper. I grabbed one of the other croissants in the bag, and began to look around the room, trying to find any way to know where Marisol was, and for how long. Silently walking through the room, checking for her in her bed, I heard the water in the bathroom turn on, meaning she was probably taking a shower after having worked out or something. Maybe she was practicing her dancing because I remember reading that in her profile. Anyway, I found myself with that basic window of seven to ten minutes to get out of the room, and out onto the streets of Paris where I would see if spending time in my sister's French class half asleep would pay off.

I slowly opened the door to our room, and looked directly outside, trying to find anyone on the other side, trying to keep me in, but found it to be completely empty, giving me the perfect chance to slowly close the door again. As I bolted from the hallway, my little voice began to speak me as it always did, but this time it was telling me something different. In the past it used to be warning me, telling me that I should be doing something else to try and counteract what was coming. This time, however, it was guiding me, telling me not to stay in the middle of the hall, but to stick to the wall, and not to go into the elevator. Following its advice for the first time, I began to walk down the stairs from the fifth floor. As I reached the head of the staircase, I looked back over at the elevator, and saw it open a near second later.

"_I'm glad I have you,"_ I said to my voice, seeing both Naoko and Alexander, granted I still call him Aruku, walk out of the elevator, and towards my room, about to get a nice little surprise. _"Man, I'd be lost without you, buddy,"_ I said again to my voice as I slowly made my way down the stairs towards the lower level., reaching the next floor when I heard Naoko shout from way in the back of the hallway, prompting me to run as fast as I could down the stairs.

As soon as I reached the main lobby, I looked over the landscape of it, to try and find anyone else from the tournament to make sure I was clear to get out of there as fast as I could, and sure enough, sitting at the terminal was Sorrel. She just looked at me, didn't do anything more than that, and turned to the other side as I thanked her in my mind running out of the hotel lobby, picking up a map from the hotel desk.

* * *

Outside of the hotel, I looked at where the hotel was on the map, and was hoping to find the Louvre hotel as fast as I could before any of the other competitors from the tournament showed up to stop me. I could only imagine the trouble Sorrel was going to get into for my sake, and I kept thanking her as I ran down the streets of Paris, still as crowded as could be, but that may have been more helpful than it was hindering to my goal of staying hidden. As I ran across the sidewalks, I kept trying to find the spot on the map where it at least said _"Louvre"_ because I was pretty sure that word was universal.

* * *

Back at the hotel, Marisol, Naoko and Aruku walked down into the main lobby, finding Sorrel just sitting by the monitor, as though waiting to battle somebody, with a large smile on her face. As she said hello to the other three, she was practically pushed up against the wall by Marisol as Naoko and Aruku stood back and watched her as though she were interrogating the English rep.

"Sorrel, did you see Sasha come by here?" she asked, Sorrel just giving a small smile as she shook her head to express a negative answer. "Why do I not believe you?" she asked, Sorrel just looking up at her.

"Maybe you have trouble believing people," she replied. "What if I told you that Sasha did come by here, then you would just chase after him, and never let him do what he had to do to make sure he could prove himself as a man. Then I could be lying, and I could be hiding Sasha in the hotel as he makes a plan to get to the Louvre anyway, and get his stuff back. But then there's always the possibility that I could be telling the truth that I don't know where he is, and then you're just wasting your time with me, while he's either outside doing something I don't know about, or is already back in your room, maybe having to find a different bathroom, because it seemed like you just got out of the shower."

"I don't want to hear your little smart mouth comments," Marisol said threateningly. "We all agreed that we would make sure that Sasha came nowhere close to the Louvre, nor his stalkers in any way until they were caught by the police, which is what we planned on for tonight, or did you forget that little point?" she asked, receiving the same smile from Sorrel.

"There's no way you'd be able to get me to snitch ona person I'm helping out," she said, stretching out her back, staring directly at the three people. "Also, there's no way to prove that if I even know where Sasha is, assuming that I'm telling the truth about not knowing where he went," she said, Marisol's and Naoko's brains about to explode from the overload of words Sorrel was jamming down their throats.

"You wouldn't have needed to keep a secret for a friend if there was no secret to be kept," Aruku said from behind both Naoko and Marisol, both of them moving away. "Which insinuates that you are keeping a secret for a friend, and the only secret Sasha would have reason to keep from us would be if he had gone off to the Louvre museum in search of his stolen items, meaning that he would also have left knowing that he had limited faith in both your integrity and ability to keep secrets."

"Assuming that I did know he left, which I'm not saying I do, because other secrets from Sasha may also need to be kept," Sorrel said in reply, both Marisol and Naoko still holding their heads in pain from the amount of logic being thrown in between them.

"None that are pertinent to the problem at hand which would also imply that if there were any secrets about Sasha we would want to know about, all that would have to happen would be to find whatever it is makes you fold like a weak poker hand," he continued, Sorrel becoming speechless all too quickly, swooping in next to Aruku, and staring at his face as close as she could get to it.

"You seem to have secrets yourself, Aruku," she said, saying his name rather playfully as she poked his chest, and ran her finger along it as she left the room, Aruku's face completely painted red. "Sasha left for the Louvre no more than ten minutes ago," she admitted, Aruku still holding his chest, and noticing that she was touching the family crest on his jacket, sighing out of relief.

"I think she likes you," Naoko said teasingly as the comfort Aruku received had now been replaced by disorientation, leading to his fainting directly afterwards. "Wow, and we were going to send him to help with a bunch of girls after boys like this?" Naoko asked, Marisol helping her ease him into an armchair, as they both went up to the front desk to make sure a message went out to the other competitors.

* * *

As I still ran through the streets of Paris, finally finding the Louvre on the map, I rounded the corner where the famous glass pyramid stood, but found a policeman standing directly where I would have to walk into. I recoiled back around the corner, and took a deep breath, knowing full well what would happen to me if I was actually caught by one of them. And knowing what would happen, I would be sent back to Marisol empty handed, and no closer to getting any of the answers I wanted. As I stood there, looking at the clock tower on the other side of the street, seeing the time as fifteen minutes to seven. I looked around, and saw my only way out of my situation, although it would pain me greatly as I darted across the street, and into one of the nearby shops, swallowing my pride as fast as I could.

"Bonsoir," the attendant greeted. "Is there anything I can help you find tonight, mademoiselle?" she asked, as I turned around to view the items in the shop, and almost succumbed to tears at the sight of every kind of hair product imaginable within its walls.

Coming out of the shop, my cheeks were painted a deep red color, my hair being tied up in a long braided ponytail, reaching only to the center of my back, but still made me look different than how I usually did. As I walked towards the entrance to the Louvre, I walked by the policeman in front of it, averting my eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice me.

"Hey, attendez!" he shouted making me freeze in place, knowing that he was commanding me to wait.

"_Great, I spend who knows how much on this disguise, and now it's all gonna fall apart within a few seconds,"_ I said, hearing the man's footsteps come closer and closer, hearing them stop by me, and a sudden pat on the shoulder, but not mine. _"What?"_ I questioned, turning around to see the policeman holding the shoulder of a large man with a pair of sunglasses apparently behind me.

"Would you like to explain to me and this lovely young woman what you were planning to do?" he asked, as the man behind me looked down at me with the most terrified eyes through his sunglasses. "Well, then maybe you'd like to talk about it down at the station," he said, turning the man around, and then looking back at me, seeing my hesitant breathing. "It's okay, mademoiselle," he told me, pushing the man towards his car. "You just find who you need to, and you'll be fine. They're in the Louvre, aren't they?"

"That they are," I said, knowing full well that we were talking about different people, but the end result would still be the same. "_Merci beaucoup," _I said in a rather choppy dialect, the man chuckling as he led the other away, giving me the time I needed to enter the museum, the time on the clock reading a quarter after seven.

* * *

The pictures I had seen of the inside of the Louvre obviously didn't do it justice; I had always thought it was just another art museum, but everything around me, not just the paintings were masterfully crafted. It was almost as if the ones making this place were just the same as the great painters whose masterpieces filled the walls of this building. As I walked through, my mind almost began to lose sight of what it was I had come in here for, but the sight of somebody stopping to stare directly at me made me remember that there were still three people in here trying to find me within the next forty five minutes.

I walked into one of the restrooms, and looked at my hair in the mirror, seeing where the basic knot to tie my hair was found. As I ran my fingers through the strands, I felt the string, and twisted it inside my fist, hearing the sudden snap, and fished it out of my hair, letting it fall to the ground, shaking my hair loose from the braids, letting it fall back down to where it always sat, and then made my way out of the restrooms.

I wasn't out for five minutes, and back to looking at one of the more iconic paintings, the Mona Lisa when I felt three other people come up behind me, looking at the same painting. I wasn't sure of who they were until I could feel them running their fingers through my hair, and I knew who they were instantly.

"Did you know people think that the woman in the painting was actually a self portrait at one point of the artists?" one of them asked as I stayed quiet, the three of them releasing the strands of hair from their grip. "Guess you're not the only one who could've passed for a woman, and like this painting your adorable face will be preserved forever on the internet."

"I didn't come here to talk about some painting's supposed similarities to me," I said, still not turning around. Part of me believes that I was afraid to see what they looked like, because I'd soon realize they were normal people on the outside, and not the monsters I envisioned them as. "I came here because you said you had something of mine," I said, feeling a strap being slung over my shoulder, and a bag lying against the opposite side of my body. I ran my hand up the back, and felt the wood, letting off a sigh of relief. "Is that it? Couldn't stand to see me suffer like that?"

"I wouldn't go that far," a second girl said. "We just knew without the proper leverage, you would never come to us willingly. And now look, here you are," she said, leaning over next to my face, and breathing in my ear. As they saw me cringe at the feeling overcoming my head, they couldn't help but chuckle as we just continued looking at the painting of the mysterious woman.

"You didn't choose this place, did you?" I asked as I could see their silhouettes in the reflective glass covering the painting. "Had it been by your choice, you would rather have faced Brett back in Moscow, as opposed to doing this back and forth work. Someone else is telling you what to do, right?"

"Really cute, and pretty smart, we have a real keeper over here," the third said, ruffling my hair. "So what if we were following somebody else? It still got us to what we wanted," she said, draping her arms over my neck.

"You didn't give these back to be courteous, I can tell that already," I said, feeling the shape of the computer in my bag. "You're still following this person's instructions because they're promising you three me in return for your services, am I right?" I asked, the three of them chuckling; I could already tell they could easily overpower someone like me, so there was no point in trying to run. "So once you finish with this job, you get your reward, I take it?" I asked.

"That's the basic point," the first one said. "Maybe we'll finally be able to tell one of them our real names," she said as she led the way through the deeper parts of the museum. I had a pretty good idea by what she meant by "one of them," and I wasn't too sure if I was going to like the end result. I was sure these three had their own pictures of people like me, but not ones where they tried to make things better after the fact, which is probably one of the only things I ever thanked Natsumi for.

After reaching the end of the hallway, there was nothing there, just another painting, and one of much more haunting origin. The picture of a man screaming while the background showed off the sunset painting the clouds a blood red color, no pun intended. The picture was known on as "The Scream" in many parts of the world, and one of the most iconic paintings in the world, but even I could tell it wasn't supposed to be where it was. As I was shown to one of the benches in the museum, I was still unwilling to face any of the girls, but felt one of them placing their hands on both sides of my head, a cell phone pressed to my right ear.

"Beautiful isn't it?" a voice asked, incredibly distorted. "One of the many different variations of the painting created by the artistic genius of Edvard Munch in the late nineteenth century. One of the original painted versions that hangs in the Munch Museum of Oslo, Germany. What do you think?"

"I think you just admitted to having stolen it," I replied, the other end of the line chortling at my answer. "Why call me like this with the help of these three? It seems if you wanted to talk to me, you could have easily called me from the hotel."

"And ruin the fun of finding out what kind of person you were on the way?" the voice asked, still releasing an evil chuckle as they did. "I do believe that a person like you should have no trouble figuring out who I am, so take a guess. I know how keen you are to figure this out."

"You're somebody who has no reason to see me in the way my sister portrays me on the internet," I explained, the girls around me chuckling. "You're a person who has no problem in doing things to people no matter how it affects them psychology, and yet, you have reason to oppose me for something, whether it be about my personal life, or another aspect of my life that nobody should know about," I continued, the voice still not reacting. "You know about _him_, and you're the one who has the most to gain to proving yourself stronger than me in the one thing I do better than almost anyone else. You're the thief the Pokémon Company is looking for."

"Well, somebody is going to get some kind of award from these three lovely ladies when we're done here," they said, making me shift my eyes, only seeing the three girls in fairly similar outfits, the same kinds of shirts and skirts my sister tends to wear. "Yes, I stole the dragon game, and yet I find myself perplexed about something with these games."

"It helps to push the on switch," I said, everyone in the conversation letting off a small chuckle.

"Not that," they said. "How is it that you are able to become this other person, simply by being in a battle with your partner?" they asked; I wasn't surprised by the question. "I've been told that you can hear something when you battle with him, and sets off this psychological trigger to turn you into the one you call 'Czar,' am I not correct?"

"I don't know anything about how he comes out," I answered. "Obviously you have more answers than I do, and chances are that will become your own undoing. My philosophy says that the less you know, the less likely you are of getting hurt."

"Maybe so, but the idea behind your partner giving you new strength brings to mind another one like you," they continued, I was sure they'd bring up Leon's name, seeing as how Marisol told me he was when he battled her, and he already knew about the Czar. "I believe their name was…" they began, saying the name under their breath, my eyes widening in surprise at the sound of that person's name. "Well, it seems that you have outlived your usefulness to me, you may pass the phone back to Gamma," the voice said, my eyes still confused by everything he told me.

"What do you know of Gamma?" I asked, figuring he was referencing my Gallade, but at the sound of the name, I felt the girl's hands removing themselves from my head, and holding the phone to their own ear.

"This is Gamma, anything else, boss?" she asked, the idea that she named herself after my partner made my mind nearly go blank, or made it filled with nothing but white noise. "Okay, then, thanks a lot," she said, switching the phone off, and placing her hands on my shoulders as the other two gripped onto my arms. "Looks like it's time to claim our reward," she said as she lowered her head until it was parallel to mine. "What she would do first?" she asked about to place her lips against my cheeks, but suddenly stopped at the sound of breaking glass over towards the entrance of the museum. "Alpha, come with me, we better check it out. Omega, stick with him," she said, the two other girls listening to their instructions as the one to the right of me left, and the on my left stayed glued to me.

"_Why did it have to be like that?"_ I asked myself, the name of the other person like me aside from Leon filling my head with more voices than ever before. _"How could it be that they're actually like me? They just don't seem to be the same as me, and what is it we hear? When Gamma and I battle what is it that I can hear from him?"_ I asked, closing my eyes, just trying to focus, despite the girl next to me cuddling my arm.

"We'll be able to have lots of fun with you," she said, reaching around me to grab the pool cue out of my bag, the two ends of maple passing in front of me. "Why do you carry this around, anyway? You can't get into a bar to play," she said, the tip of the shaft leaving my vision, and a small figure passing by in my mind's eye.

"_Onee-chan?"_ I questioned, seeing her smiling face leave with the pool cue already completely in the girl's grip. _"What do I hear from Gamma? What is it that makes the Czar come out?" _I asked over and over again in my head, quickly reaching out for the pool cue, grabbing both ends within my one hand.

"Hmm, somebody's getting a little touchy," the girl said teasingly as she released the pool stick, and reached her other hand towards my head, thinking that I was anticipating the same thing she was. "We'll make sure to do things that your sister would never do," she said as I kept my head down, but a small smile appearing in the corner of my mouth.

* * *

"Oh, you can't be serious," Gamma said, looking out at the entrance to the Louvre, seeing Leon holding out his fist, despite it being dripping blood from punching the window in. "We can never have Sasha by himself, can we?" she asked as the other girl simply shook her head.

"So you admit you have him?" Leon asked, Brett, Marisol, and Naoko behind him, all with the same stern expression.

"Maybe we do, maybe we don't," Gamma said, Leon about to approach her, but quickly stopped by a bamboo made sword extending from somebody's arm. "Now's not to the time to stop me, Brett," Leon said, making the connection between the sword and the Japanese rep.

"It wasn't me," Brett replied, Leon looking off to his right, met by a man, definitely older than Brett, and by the looks of it, him as well, even adding on Brett's age.

* * *

This man, while sharing the same ethnic background as both Brett and Naoko, if he had anything to do with the tournament, he was definitely not one of the competitors. This man was probably closer to his late thirties if anything, standing at a stature of five foot eleven, still not quite as tall as Brett, but much more imposing, given his build almost matching Leon's. His hair was cut short, like most men his age, allowing it to go over his forehead only slightly, so as to keep it out of his dark brown eyes. His wardrobe consisted of a long black trench coat over a light blue dress shirt, and over a pair of dark blue jeans, ending short of his black heeled boots. The bamboo sword in his hand as one that had definitely seen its fair share of action, and was fully prepared to strike at a moment's notice.

* * *

"Hmm, and they think we're the pedophiles," Gamma said jokingly to Alpha, who shared in her amusement, but the expression on the man was serious, not taken aback by the comment.

"I am Kanata Kawagashi," he declared, pointing his sword at the two girls. "Representative of the Pokémon Company for the tournament taking place over these next two months, and I must ask for the return of competitor Takebana," he said. "You should know that holding him against his will here will result in charges of kidnapping being placed against you."

"Yeah, whatever, we've heard this deal before," Gamma said, looking down the hallway at the ensuing situation. "But you should know that Sasha came down here willingly, and so we aren't responsible for his being here. And the only way you can charge us with anything is if he openly objects to our actions."

"You think that he'll actually agree with what you girls do?" Leon asked, allowing his anger to boil to the point of snapping, but was still stopped by Kanata, who continued to shake his head to keep the American rep from going after them, which would result in them having a fairly big legal matter on their hands.

"At any rate, I must request that you return him before this becomes a problem far past what I am capable of dealing with, given my position," Kanata warned, the two girls still showing off a chuckle as Leon's fist were now shaking as hard as they could to keep him from going on a full rampage.

"The only way, we'd give him up is if he were able to fight us, because everyone knows what would happen if you went in for the kill, right, Leon?" Gamma asked, as she turned back around, met by the face of the third girl Omega who was simply standing in the hallway, but was definitely low in strength. "Omega, I told you to stay with him!" she said angrily as everyone in the room heard a small chuckle.

"She did her job as best she could," everyone heard a deep voice say. "But there are few you can suffer my wrath, and say they could tolerate for long," the voice finished as the girl fell down to the floor in front of my own form, holding both ends of my pool cue in my hands, so they were resting against my arms.

"Sasha-kun!" Naoko shouted out of relief, but then noticed the look in my eyes. "Cz-Czar?" she asked as I looked at her with a small smile and nodded as she tried to run out to me, but was stopped, this time by Leon.

"I need to see this," he said to her, keeping her from moving any further as I held both arms over my face, the ends of my pool cue extending past the ends of my elbows. "He can hear it, I know he can."

"Hear what?" Marisol asked, still curious about everything that happened after both she and Leon battled.

"The heartbeat of the pokémon," he said, as the three girls tried to charge me.

As they reached to where I was, I lowered my stance, and flipped one of the ends of my pool cue outward, practically impaling the one calling herself Alpha as she fell down to the floor unconscious just like the last one. Seeing her subordinate fall so quickly to my strike, the one named Gamma reached to her side and pulled out a small club, most likely to be used if I was more unwilling than they were hoping.

"We've come this close, I'm not going to lose you now!" she shouted as she brought the club down towards my face, the two ends of the rod already in place over my visage, but that's when I decided to end this whole idiotic affair.

As she still brought the club down towards my face, I separated my arms, allowing my face to be exposed to the attack, full well knowing the damage I would sustain, should the strike prove effective. Seeing the look in my eyes, not having any fear of her, so could see the look of hesitation in her own eyes, a small tear appearing in the corner of her eye at her oncoming action. I showed off a small smile, and forced the far end of the rod in my right hand to her stomach, like I had the other two, and she fell within seconds, simply looking at me as she fell unconscious.

"We won't stop here," she said, gripping onto my shoulders, I could feel her strength failing her. "We won't be the only ones after you. There will be others, and just keep in mind, _she _has finally been released."

"You're petty threats are nothing compared to the power of the Czar," I said, removing the rod from her stomach. "That woman no longer holds any fear in this body, as troublesome as it has been. But know, that it is still my own, this body will forever be forbidden to women like you."

"Natsumi won't be able to save you next time," she said, falling unconscious as I stood in between the three of them.

"_I've known that since coming here,"_ I said to myself as I looked forward at Naoko and the others as I placed both ends of the pool cue back in my bag. "I wouldn't worry about them, they came only close to taking my innocence," I said, Naoko running towards me, giving me a hard slap across the cheek.

"BAKA!" she shouted at the top of her lungs as I fell to the ground with the single strike against me. "What if she actually hit you? How did you know that she wouldn't bash your head in like they've been trying to?"

"I didn't," I said, still within my persona as the Czar. "Those three see this body as the object of their affections, and if it meant causing me more harm than necessary, I figured they wouldn't have the stomach to strike me down," I explained, Naoko keeping the same look of annoyance on her face as she gave me the questioning look again. "In other words, I took a mere gamble in order to seal the result of this battle, and as you can see it worked, so lay off."

"Lay off?" Naoko repeated. "Lay off!?" she asked again, chasing me out of the museum, the bag on my side causing enough of a drag to the point where she caught me outside, and began banging on my back while the other four kept their eyes on me.

"They look like a young couple in love," Marisol said plainly as the others agreed, but Brett's eyes went directly to Kanata.

"Why weren't you here earlier?" he asked. "This could have been avoided had you not been here later than we were told."

"There was a matter we had to deal with in Moscow when the other representative for the tournament and myself went through," he explained. "Something about an unpaid hospital check out for our little friend. Care to explain what happened there?" he asked, Brett just looking the other direction as Kanata nodded triumphantly. "Anyway, now that we are here, we'll be taking Sasha into our care for the remainder of the tournament in Paris."

"Why?" Leon asked. "His stalkers have been caught, and now there's nothing else to worry about. Why do you need to keep watch over him?"

"That's a two part answer," Kanata said, looking back over at where Naoko was still reprimanding me for what I had done, even after I exited the persona of the Czar. "There's still the issue with the dragon game being stolen, and as it turned we intercepted the phone call between both Sasha and the thief. He may have information we can use to narrow our suspect pool."

"And what's the second part?" Marisol asked, hearing a sudden shout from both me and Naoko.

* * *

As they turned around to face what was happening, they found both myself and Naoko in the grip of a single woman, probably about as old as Natsumi, or a bit older by a couple of years. In terms of how people would have compared them, however, there would be little difference, whether it be in body figure, height, hair length. Both shared a similar over all body structure, and the hair was fairly similar in color, granted this woman's hair was a dark brown color as opposed to Natsumi's coal black color. Her eyes were a light brown color, but when she looked at me, the light made them look almost red. She, like Kanata, wore a long overcoat, colored red, over a black colored turtle neck, blue jeans, and a pair of black boots, but given the fact she also wore a black scarf, and red and black gloves, she probably wasn't as accustomed to the cold.

* * *

"Maybe if we don't move so much, she'll let us go," I whispered to Naoko who had gone into a basic state of complete shock, confusing me, until I figured out why…first hand.

"Aww, you're both so cute," she said, reaching her head down, and planting a kiss on my cheek, which is probably what she did to Naoko, who had fainted by this point. "Call me Reina Lozano," she said as she released us both, Naoko doing a quick face plant into the snow bank. "Hmm, what happened to her?" she asked as I looked away, trying to think of the last time a girl actually did that to me, my face covered in blush.

"Let me guess what that second reason was," Brett challenged as Kanata merely nodded in agreement.

"Reina-san got too excited when it came to being in the same room as a boy like Sasha, and in retrospect I should've told her after we knew it as a total fact," Kanata explained. "Now, I don't think it's going to be something we can avoid."

"Good luck, Sasha," Leon said, walking back on to the streets back towards the hotel, but a definite look of ecstasy as he passed by me. _"I was finally able to see him again,"_ he said as he felt the grip in his fist tighten, despite there still being a small pool of blood forming in his hand. _"Now my mind is made up, we will meet in the finals, Sasha Takebana, and at that time I will be able to battle the one that will always be my rival; the Czar and his faithful servant, Gamma. Until we meet again, your highness."_

After Reina left to speak with Kanata, I was left alone to think about what just happened with the incident with the Czar coming out, and things were beginning to make a bit more sense to me. _"The Czar still remains a mystery to me, but the fact remains that I know Natsumi and Gamma both have something to do with him. But I also learned why that pool cue means so much to me; it reminds me of the times with Natsumi and remind of how lucky I am to have a sister who thinks of her little brother when something happens. I am forever in your debt Natsumi, and from now I'll be thanking the Lord on High that He sent you to me."_

* * *

Character Appearances (Dialogue Based):

Sasha Takebana (Fighting): Gallade (Gamma), Hariyama (Alpha), Conkeldurr (Sigma), Emboar (Theta), Scrafty (Omega), last Pokémon TBA. NightFall00

Luo Sun (Fire): Pokémon TBA. DayBreak99

Meixiang Fong (Ice): Pokémon TBA. thesecretkeeper11

Marisol Torres (Electric): Jolteon (Set), Eelektross (Indra), Magnezone (Zeus), other Pokémon TBA. red. truth

Brett Kuso (Water): Samurott, Poliwrath, Quagsire, Gyarados, other Pokémon TBA. AshKetchumDarkSide

Aspen Kizuna (Rock): Tyranitar, Gigalith, other Pokémon TBA. Crossroader32

Naoko Kato (Steel): Scizor (Kana), Lucario (Ruko), Skarmory (Huru), other Pokémon TBA. Cyanide the Sneasel

Elena Sanchez (Ghost): Pokémon TBA. PhatomStorm and DrummerGirl

Mick Addison (Ground): Gliscor (Saint), Flygon (Bellewitz), other Pokémon TBA. CodyOnTheBounce T.V

Leon Ryder (Flying): Charizard, Staraptor, Gliscor, other Pokémon TBA. Jexo

Louise Castillo (Dark): Pokémon TBA. Detonator Liberation

Aruku Castiel (Psychic): Pokémon TBA. ZxZ Fic Hunter

Sorrel Devlin (Poison): Pokémon TBA. Ariesbird

Kanata Kawagashi (Tournament Rep): Pokémon TBA. Miss Tigger

Reina Lozano (Tournament Rep): Pokémon TBA. The Red King

* * *

Notes:

Russian Names: So, all of us know kinda where our names come from, origin wise. My name is Greek in origin, my older brother's is Irish, you get the idea, but in a lot of cases of names like in Japan, it's hard to tell when a name is meant for a male or a female. Well, in Russia that's not really the case, and actually, is one of the countries where figuring out a person's gender is as easy as knowing their first name. The basic rule in Russian grammar is that all masculine words ending in a consonant sound, or something called "ee kratkoe," which is like the sound the letter Y makes when you put it after a vowel sound. Anyway, a name like Aleksander, Sergei, Ivan are all masculine names that are pretty easy to figure out by that kind of a rule. Feminine words all end in the sound for "ah" or "yah," represented by an A or a backwards R respectively. So names like Tamara, Natasha, and Tanya are pretty easy to figure out as well. In Sasha's case, it's more of a situation where his name could be either, which doesn't help with his case of gender identity crisis or something like that. There are two other endings for nouns, either an "oh" or a "ye" sound for neuter nouns, and then any kind of "ee" sound for plurals, unless it's neuter, then it turns to "a" or "ya." Given that a lot of nicknames in Russian are ambiguous in gender, Sasha's name, unlike Tamara's is a bit harder to figure out.

Trap: A lot of people who watch anime that's a bit more risqué, probably know this trope, and it's called a trap. Now when I was writing this story earlier on, I had to find out what kind of character profile Sasha fit under, and sure enough, I found what was called the Trap. Essentially, a Trap is a boy who looks, acts, or is mannered enough like a girl that people can't tell the difference, which usually leads to some hilarity or questioning of the character's sexuality. In the case of this story, the idea behind Sasha being a Trap is more played for comedy given his appearance, as none of the characters, minus Julien of course, have ever acted on his looking like a girl in a romantic way, poor guy.

Glass Pyramid: Outside the entrance to the Louvre Art Museum in Paris is a glass pyramid sculpture that, like a lot of more recent French architecture, like the Eiffel Tower, is not well viewed in the public eye. Many people believe that there is a culture gap between both the museum and the pyramid that is just too much for them to complement each other. Many have suggested it be taken away from the museum's entrance, but like the Eiffel Tower, it just seems to be one of those things that's going to stay.

Mona Lisa: The most memorable, and iconic paintings in the world, is the mysterious painting of the smiling woman we all know as the "Mona Lisa." Painted by Leonardo Da Vinci in the earlier sixteenth century, the painting is the result of work using the likeness of a woman still unidentified, but thought by many to be of Lisa Gherardini, the painting's signature smile has vexed the minds of historians and artists alike for century. In many cases, people have come to other conclusions about who the painting is really, and in one case, due to the ability to match the overall head topography, it is thought to be a self portrait of Mr. Da Vinci himself. Others have claimed it to be his interpretation of the ideal woman, and some believe he used his own mother for the likeness. No matter what one says, or thinks, the mystery of the smiling woman, forever sitting in the Louvre museum will be a left unsolved.

First Kiss: Today on TV we see a lot of sexual themes being used as a general premise for a lot of character interaction. Believe me when I say that that is something you would never see in Japan. Japan is a culture of very strict tradition, and in that tradition, a person's first kiss, while they're in their formative years is the most important kiss of their life. While this is generally supposed to be on the lips, many young people believe that if their kiss is not used on the person it is intended for, it has been spoiled, and forever wasted. It's why you generally see a lot of female characters going nuts over this stuff, while guys may not think so much of it. At any rate, the sudden occurrence for Naoko may have been too much for her, even if it was just on the cheek.

* * *

Well, that's the end of chapter five, and I have to say I am proud of myself, seeing as if I read this word count correctly, I'm over sixteen thousand words, which is a personal best for me. How sad is that? Anyway, there are few things that I'd like your speculation on; first, if there music being put to the different scenes, what kind of music would you be thinking about, and keep in mind that I really only listen to Japanese songs. Second, how do you think the tournament is gonna play out? The tournament starts in the next chapter, and will be going through about three or four chapters before it's done (think if how many manga chapters that would be). And third, what are your thoughts on the characters that I've used more of so far throughout the first five chapters; Sasha, Brett, Naoko, Aspen (kinda), Leon, and any others you think have been more important to the story line so far. Until next time when we meet again, ja nee.


	7. Reality

Hey guys, NightFall here with your next enjoyment filled chapter of VGC, which I really need to find a new title for, so if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear 'em. It's not that I hate the title or anything; it's just more of a thing where I need to come up with something snappier, like what I did with Checkmate. It was a simple title that carried with it a whole bunch of meanings that you could instantly connect with the basic plot of the story instead of saying it outright. I don't know, something should come to me later, seeing as if I can manage to come up with a chapter longer than fifteen thousand words, I should be able to come up with something that's only a few words long at the most. Well, today's the day, the one that you guys have been waiting for, and that would be the chapter where we finally begin the tournament, and I must say that writing this is going to be a challenge without becoming too monotonous. I hope to get through at least two battles in each chapter, will get rid of the first round in two chapters, the second in one, and then have the final round be the one that lasts just a bit longer. So without further ado, let's begin.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE GHOST TYPES.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Reality

It's a scary concept when you enter into the reality that you may not be all who you think you are. You suddenly realize that maybe you're not as special as you thought you were in the way you figured. People are often blind to the things that make them who they are, and understand that that is what makes them truly special and unique. But a question people tend to ask is why that is. Why do we always resent what really makes us special, and instead dream up what we want to be to make us special? Well, the answer is actually pretty simple when you step back, and understand why you do what you do to make yourself somebody else. It's because of how we see ourselves, people who look at themselves and think that what they can do isn't what they have to do to be accepted by others. They instead believe that if they truly want to become that certain thing to make them the most unique person in the world, they have, but only to change themselves in that regard, not understanding that in the long run, they can never change who they are on the very inside of them.

* * *

For the first time in the last five days, I had a comfortable night's sleep, not having to worry about whether or not I was going to have to sneak out just to have some alone time, or whether it was going to be one of those days where I would have to walk around with escorts because nobody could trust me. For once, I could relax where I was and not have to worry about anything around me…or so I thought. As I stretched out my arms, and looked around the room, I realized that I wasn't alone in said room. I turned my gaze down around my waist, I saw a pair of arms wrapped around it, leading to a female body in front of me, and then to the face of Reina almost directly in front of me.

"Oh boy," I said, as I reached around to see if I could ease her hand loose, but, oh, how wrong I was. "Oh, this just keeps getting better," I said, completely caught in her embrace as she held me tighter, as though she knew I was trying to get out. "Why did I have to stay in the same room as the one who _wanted_ to stay with me?" I asked, as she simply pulled my head in closer, until my cheek as lying flush to her chest, my entire face red with embarrassment. _"Oh, Heavenly Saints, preserve me,"_ I practically shouted in my head as I looked back at the bed Reina was supposed to be sleeping in, where it was easily seen that she did not sleepwalk to me.

That position was kept for several minutes, myself almost succumbing to the warmth of her body as she shifted her positions every now and again while I stayed frozen in fear. Every time she would find a more comfortable way to keep her grip on me, I could feel a soft breath against my forehead that just made by entire body shiver, but with each passing second, I felt myself drifting back to sleep, despite the time reading on the clock, saying it was beginning to get close to ten o' clock. Just before I went back to sleep, I realized what the time on the clock really meant; the tournament started in three hours, and I was being cuddled by a woman almost ten years older than me. Saying that now, though, just makes me feel awkward. My eyes practically popped out of my head, knowing that I probably would have had to be at the tournament hall earlier than the others so things could get started on a high note, but that was probably easier said than done.

Noticing how hard Reina's grip was, I tried to think of the last time Natsumi did this to me…it didn't end well, but here was hoping Reina wasn't the same. I brought my hand from my side, and placed it in between both myself and Reina, extending my index finger against her stomach. I could feel a quick shift in her position as Reina pulled me up against her tighter as I shut my eyes quickly, keeping my index finger in the same place, giving it a quick turn. Still keeping my eyes closed to protect them from seeing anything they shouldn't, I could hear a faint chuckling sound from in front of me.

"_Thank you, Lord,"_ I said in my head as Reina's sleep filled laughing was followed by a relaxing in her grip around me, until her arms lay limp against my head and torso. _"Thank goodness she's ticklish, unless other girls I know,"_ I said, remembering the last time I tried that trick on Natsumi…again, did not end well.

I slipped out of her arms, and placed one of the pillows from the bed, in between them, allowing Reina to squeeze on the entirety of it. As I walked over to the bathroom to shower, I turned back to see how she was doing, and found that she had her face buried in the pillow, nuzzling her nose as far into it as she could, making me cringe at the thought of what could have happened if that was me. I walked into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, and found myself dressed in my sister's old pajamas, which I kept trying to convince myself was a dream. In the end, I did know that my other clothes had to be cleaned, seeing as I wasn't able to change out of them after coming to Paris, which in retrospect is just gross.

As I sat under the constant water stream, I looked down at one of the puddles of water, and stared at my own reflection for the longest time, as the water ran down my hair and back. My mind began thinking about the tournament later today, and if it really was a good idea to have told my parents about it. It had been some time since I talked about my parents as a basic subject to anyone, because it's hard to find anyone with parents that aren't involved in their kids' lives. For the longest time, I almost considered Natsumi as my legal guardian, I saw her more often anyway, and even when I was at home, it was never the conventional family that you see on television, and part of me always hated that part of my life. I walked out of the shower, and grabbed my clothes hanging on one of the racks to the side of the room, quickly pulling my belt through my jeans, and then placing a towel over my head to dry the rest of my hair.

"_I don't see Mama having a big issue with me doing this," _I said, walking back into the main room, sitting on the opposite bed from where Reina was still sleeping, her face still engulfed by the pillow. _"It's Papa that I'm going to have trouble convincing. I always felt that there was something about him that never agreed with you I was. Let's just hope he can see what I do is actually worthwhile,"_ I said, hearing a stirring from where I was originally sleeping.

"Hmm, my teddy bear's gone," Reina said, making my head sink at the thought of being a possession to, yet, another woman. "Ah, there you are," she said, turning around to look at me, as I finished drying off my hair. "So you really are a boy," she said, looking at my bare chest and stomach.

"I don't see how seeing my upper body helps with that," I said. "Not a lot of girls would have a whole heck of a lot of development by my age," I explained, turning away, still embarrassed by the fact she was able to kiss me so casually last night.

"I don't know," Reina said, coming up from behind me, and gripping onto my shoulders. "A lot of girls nowadays have a bit more 'development' than you're thinking," she said, resting her chest against my back, making my face practically glow a beet red color as I jumped from the bed, and grabbed my shirt, jacket, and bag, running out of the room with Reina chuckling from behind the door. "Maybe I overdid it," she said, walking over into the bathroom.

* * *

Outside in the hallway of the hotel, I was left panting both out of the sudden sprint, and the embarrassment I still felt from what just happened. I fitted my shirt on, and then my jacket, and slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder, pulling out my pool cue, and screwing the two pieces together. As I walked through the hallway, I let the long rod trail behind me, inches off of the ground, making my way into the elevator. The only downside to where I was staying for the tournament, this morning's incident not included, was that I wasn't staying in the same hotel with Naoko, Marisol, or the rest of those guys, and where I was, it was probably a good three or five miles away.

The only good part of this place, it wasn't as strict about the code of conduct, so it wasn't a big deal to have me come in last night unannounced, not that having a room with only one bed would have mattered to Reina. Another perk was that for the first time in about three weeks, I was finally able to play the only other game I could actually be considered decent in, and that was billiards, pool, eight ball, whatever you want to call it. Best part, the table actually had a decent quality to it, and wasn't one of those ones that has been in the building for twenty years without so much as a cube of chalk, really influenced me to always carry some with me.

I walked through the main lobby of the hotel, the concierge greeting me as I walked by. I waved back to him, and instantly entered the rec room, heading straight for one of the pool tables in the room. Like any other time that I played pool, for some reason, I was alone; I like to think that God allowed me this fortune so that I could sort out my thoughts while playing. I placed the different colored balls in the triangle rack, and tried to position it as straight as I could, seeing as it's darn near impossible for even the most skilled brain surgeon. I lifted the rack off of the table, and spun it in between my fingers as I always did; it was just always a habit of mine. Walking towards the other end of the table, I lined up my beginning shot, looking over to door of the billiard room, finding Kanata in the doorway, not doing anything, just staring.

"Have fun with Reina-san this morning? Because she sure seemed to be in high spirits," he said, as I gave off a small smile, thrusting the cue back and then forward, the white ball striking the triangle head-on, the result being a giant chain reaction of the balls to go off in all directions. "You sure know how to play," he said, watching at least two of the balls enter into the corner pockets at the far end of the table. "Which worries me slightly for some reason; a kid your age being able to play pool like that."

"I sleep fine at night, provided there isn't an older woman trying to use me as a stuffed animal," I said, giving the pool cue another thrust back and forth towards another one of the balls, pocketing it instantly. "And I spend all the time in the billiard room at my sister's college, so I get a lot of practice," I said, hopping up onto the edge of the table, to line up my next shot.

"You seem to owe a lot to your older sister," Kanata said, walking in the opposite direction as me as I continued my run of the table, pocketing every ball I could. "It's nice to have a sister that cares so much about you, isn't it?"

"You obviously haven't seen the pictures," I said, the next few balls aimed for, going straight to the pocket. "But yeah, I don't know where I would be right now if it weren't for her. But enough about me, what about you? What's the story behind our legal rep for the tournament, and little Miss Handsy?"

"I was born in the Tokyo area, no problems in my childhood; top of my class, an eventual major into business, legal affairs, and foreign language," he answered. "The Pokémon Company recruited me from my college so I could help them with international affairs of some of their events. I had played pokémon as a hobby my entire life, and it just seemed too good to be true, thankfully it wasn't. I've been the legal and international representative for the Pokémon Company for at least ten years now, and I have to say it's worked out lovely for me. As for Reina-san," he started, both of us hearing a series of footsteps approaching both of them, Reina appearing in the same doorway.

"Born and raised in the Puerto Rico territory," she said, flashing a smile to me. "I've been playing pokémon since the beginning, and I became a champion in the North American circuit of the tournaments for a few years. I was recruited by the pokémon company when I was in college too, and I have never been able to fine so much success in doing anything else I like to do."

"You mean like destroy a little girl psychologically?" I asked, reminding of her of what happened to Naoko. "A little discretion next time would be better when it came to stuff like that. A kiss in the eyes of Japan is a pretty big deal."

"Does that mean you're still thinking about ours?" Reina asked as I blushed slightly before lining up my next shot. "Ah-ha, you act real tough, but in the end you're just a little boy who can't handle the charms of a woman like me," she said, myself taking the next shot, the cue ball screaming across the table, smashing into the other ball, and pocketing it as loud as possible, making both of the tournament reps jump out of their skin slightly. "Maybe I should leave, and let you _men_ talk things out," she said, blowing a kiss in my direction.

"She means well," Kanata said, grabbing one of the pool cues racked on the wall, lining up his own shot, thrusting the stick back and forth, but not having the same effect as my own shots were. "She just doesn't get the whole personal space bubble that some other people have."

"I can tell," I said, aiming for the same ball, slamming it into the pocket for Kanata, beginning to make him feel slightly inferior to me, which I have to say, made me feel good for some reason. "I've dealt with girls like that since I was eight, so it's not a big deal for me anymore. None have ever gone for the smack on the cheek, mind you, but I'll learn to cope…hopefully, I won't have to, but you get where I'm coming from. If all goes well, I won't have to share a room with that woman after the end of this week when the tournament's over. What time we leaving, anyway?" I asked.

"Close to an hour," Kanata said, about to walk out of the billiard room, quickly pivoting on one of his feet, turning around to face me, reaching into his briefcase, a small package inside. "By the way, we got this in the mail when we got to the hotel last night. It was addressed to you. I'd sooner say it's from your sister," he said, handing me the brown box, and leaving, as I reached into my bag, a small pocketknife appearing in my hand.

Carefully slicing the tape of the box along the edges, I opened the box, finding the majority of its volume to be taken up by packing peanuts. As I moved through the Styrofoam pieces, I reached inside the farther end of the box, fishing out a pair of white colored headphones with square shaped speakers. Pulling gently on the wire leading from both speakers, I found a small music player attached to the end, a letter stuck into the clip. Taking it out, I unfolded the letter, and read it to myself, smiling slightly as I wrapped the band over my head, and placed both speakers on my ears, quickly turning the music player on, the name of the song reading across the small screen.

"_Gotta hand it to her, Onee-chan sure knows what I like,"_ I said, the music filling my ears as I unscrewed my pool cue back into two pieces, and stuck them in my bag. _"And so with this, the tournament for the Pokémon Company's ultimate game now begins,"_ I finished, walking out of the pool room, my music completely blocking out the noise in the background.

* * *

Apparently, had I not have been targeted by those girls from last night, I wouldn't have been in a car just for the tournament reps, speeding down the streets of Paris alongside multiple cyclists, sightseers, other cars, but my mind was only on the music filling my head, bringing a solemn smile to my face as we travelled down the road. Although I may have been oblivious around me, the two in the car with me noticed the, somehow, calming in my expression as my music continued, both looking at each other, confused by the reason as to why I was the way I was.

Neither of them asked why the music made me feel a bit less, for lack of a better term, dark, although in retrospect, that may have just been because I couldn't hear them; I tend to lose perspective when it comes to music. The car ride was probably no longer than twenty five minutes, and when I looked out the window, my heart almost literally skipped a beat as the sight of a large church directly in front of me was all I could see. I turned off my music, and placed the headphones on the back of my neck so the speakers lied against my collarbone, climbing out of the car, more focused on the cathedral of Notre Dame than I was with a convention center about a quarter mile down the road.

"You coming, Sasha-kun?" Kanata asked as I looked back around, and then turned back to the magnificent church.

"Um, could I just have a few minutes before I head over there?" I asked, Kanata about to say something, but looked into my eyes finding it hard to bring himself to say otherwise. "Thanks, it'll only be a few minutes. You can go on ahead," I said, gripping onto the rosary around my neck before walking into the church. Both of the tournament reps shrugged their shoulders and made their way down the courtyard towards the building that was going to be used for the tournament.

Meanwhile, I walked into the large, magnificently decorated sanctuary, walking towards the altar. There were other people there; none of them gave me any weird looks as I took a seat in one of pews, and instead greeted me with a smile, watching draping my arms over the edge, and bringing them together, lifting them up against my tilted forehead. My mind quickly went blank; nothing else existed around me, there was no world, there was no universe, but there was just me and God.

"_Heavenly Father, I pray to You, a servant who has, in the last several days, lost his way,"_ I said to myself; while I wasn't ashamed to pray, confessing to my sins was never easy. _"In the past few days, there have been times when I have wondered whether You do show any love for a person like me; often seen as a confusing mix of who he is, and what he is thought to be. I know that the material signs you send us are always unnecessary to reestablish our faith in You, but I do thank for You the sign You have sent to me that there will always be one who loves me. Hearing the sounds of Your praises in this item my sister sent to me has made me remember what I may have almost forgot. I pray that You will protect my sister in the coming months, and that when we meet again, I can look upon her as I never have before. I pray this in Your son's name, amen,"_ I finished, letting out a small breath as I stood up, placing my fingers on my forehead, heart, and both shoulders.

I walked back towards the entrance of the cathedral, but quickly found myself looking at one of the confession boxes. Again, this was never my strong suit, admitting that I was ever wrong about anything, seeing as it happened fairly uncommonly, but something just drew me to it. I don't know what was different about this confession box as opposed to the others, but whatever it was, it had me in the center of the box within seconds. The priest on the other side of the box moved a small curtain in between us, giving me the small privacy of a small half box, wondering how I should've started this. My last confession hadn't been for a good couple of years when I went with my dad, and the process wasn't always easily remembering.

"Do you wish to speak of your sins, or do you merely wish for the company?" the priest asked as I was quickly stunned by my own silence.

"Forgive me, father," I said. "It's been a few years since I was last in a confession, and it was never something that was easy for me to do."

"You are young," the priest noticed from my voice. "The confession is not often something that a person your age could accomplish efficiently. But know that I am willing to wait for as long as I need to, if it would mean keeping you on the path of the Almighty. Allow your thoughts to gather, and God shall direct your words."

"…I've doubted Him," I said after some hesitation; the priest didn't make a reaction. "You can't see my face, but I don't look like I who I sound like, and there have been times I've wondered if God does love me, giving me this face. There have been times I've asked for his protection, and it hasn't come to me."

"And yet you sit here, able to speak of your doubts," the priest said, making me chuckle slightly. "You say you have no felt God's hand protecting you, and yet you are still alive. Often times, the things we wish for most from Him, are not the things he chooses to give to us. He has given us the gift of salvation, and as time will go by, you come to realize that God never looks down on one of His own, and think of us as any less, nor does he think of one person any more. Trials and suffering are part of carrying His word in our hearts. I assume, being as wise a youth as you sound, you are familiar with the opening passages of the book of James."

"Starting from the second verse in the first chapter, 'Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of all kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything,'" I recited, looking through the curtain to see the silhouette of the priest nodding his head. "It's a verse I've contemplated on more than one occasion."

"You ask for wisdom beyond for years," the priest said. "There is no actual advice I can give you, nor is there any reference I can make to you, that you would probably not already be familiar with. As I am no doctor, but a servant of the Almighty, all I can subscribe to you is the simple product of a medicine even more potent…time."

"I don't understand," I said, being completely honest for the first time.

"Doubting God's love in this world is not uncommon for even the most faithful of people, and will not cease as time goes on," the priest explained. "There is no actual power I have that will make you feel God's love any more apparent than what you already feel. All I can say to you is that time alone with God is the best way to feel Him close to you. I do apologize for not being able to make you feel better instantly, but this is all I can offer to you as nothing more than His servant."

"I understand your limits, father, and I will listen on your words, as they are guided by Him, thank you for your time," I said, walking out of the confession box, not feeling too much better than I went in, but after entering the confession after a good three years.

* * *

I walked out of the church, and began to make my way down to the convention center down the street, my head filled with the same genre of music, all sounding off in a large chorus with no more than the voices of the people praising God, and the piano playing in the background. I could tell people were looking at me as I walked down the street; the music may have made me deaf to everything else, but I definitely wasn't blind. Looking around, I could see all kinds of people staring at me, whispering as everyone else did; some of them older girls which I wasn't bothered by, but the guys looking at me, pointing, and, from the way their lips were positioned, giving me a few wolf whistles.

"_I wonder how they would react if they knew the truth,"_ I said to myself, chuckling over how many of them would be questioning their own identification. _"Then again, I could've done the same with Julien and he would've cracked like a carton of eggs; probably would've gone into a fetal position sucking his thumb, and gone into a coma…I should've done that."_

I reached the convention center a few minutes later, meeting up with Reina and Kanata at the entrance, and was immediately led inside. I'll say this right now, if there were ever an infinite words for paradigm shift, this would have been one of the times to make use of every single one of them. Considering where I just was, a cathedral in one of the most traditional areas of Paris, where I was able to gain advice from a pastor of said church, and now it seemed like I had walked through a time portal…no joke. I didn't actually get to meet up with everyone else, only Marisol, walking into one of the waiting rooms. Although, seeing as I had become a woman's stuffed animal a few hours ago, I wasn't complaining about the current company.

"So, have fun last night with your new friend?" Marisol asked, just after the two tournament reps left the room, my face not exactly having a very bright expression. "She seemed to be in high spirits?"

"Yeah, well, a woman like that doesn't need a whole lot to get excited about something," I said, taking a seat down at the table in the small room, placing my bag in one of the lockers, my game system being the only thing I kept with me. "So, any idea as to how this is gonna go down?"

"Tournament listings were posted on the website this morning, and from the way it looks, you and I are going to battle Mick and Elena," Marisol answered, myself just nodding in understanding. "Looks like Scrafty might be needed after all. I've only seen Mick battle with two of his pokémon, and he quit the battle before it ended, so there's still a lot of speculation that can be done about his pokémon; all I do know is that he has a Gliscor and a Flygon."

"Common strategy for a person who would use ground types," I said. "In between times when my sister did her usual thing to me, I looked up other elements, and found the basic strategy they would use in battle. Ground is among the top five offensive battling types, along with ice, fire, fighting, and rock, not to mention, it's one of the only types to be super effective against five elements by itself."

"Fighting also has that same property, right?" Marisol asked. "What would be the common strategy for ground types, though?"

"With ground, the common idea is to cover the biggest weakness that they have, and that is the fact that they can't affect flying types, or any pokémon with Levitate," I explained. "Mick's biggest issue, just in the pokémon game itself, is going to be covering common weaknesses to ice, water, and grass, but another strategy that will be common, especially giving his partner, is going to be using Earthquake while the other can levitate. What do you know about Elena's pokémon?"

"We didn't really get to talk much when we were coming here, so all I know if that she has the basics of ghost pokémon; Gengar, those kinds of things, you know," she answered, obviously there would be a lot of things learned from what happened in the next coming hours. "By the way, do you think we should call somebody about the people looking in on us?" she asked as I turned around slowly, a pair of eyes staring at both of us from behind a crack in the door.

There were probably three things I could do at that point; one, I could've done what Marisol suggested and call security, two, I could've channeled a bit of what my sister's instilled in me and cry out like a girl being assaulted, or three, I could what no rational thinking person would do…good thing I'm crazy.

"_Oy, Papa, chto tiy delaesh_?" I asked, the man behind the door suddenly reacting at my calling him as my father. "I thought you said the last time you were shy around a girl was when you were in high school," I began the man about to burst through the door. "I thought it was you who swept Mama off of her feet," I continued, the man almost breaking down the door, covering up my mouth. _"Now why was that so much fun?"_

"My apologies, Miss Torres," my father said, his accent definitely thicker than my own. "It would appear my son doesn't yet know the meaning of discretion. I told you never to say that in front of anyone."

"What, that you were spineless man who my mother thought was good for her, because then she knew if there was any calls about domestic disturbance it'd be because you two were caught having too much fun?" I asked aloud, my father, again covering up my mouth. "Oh, trust me, old man; I have plenty more where that came from."

"Since when did you start to despise your parents so much?" he asked.

"Might have something to do with the constant sending me to Natsumi-nee," I said, my father instantly shrinking away. "Or the fact that even when I was home you had other things to do," I continued, the constant battering crushing him. "Oh, and I haven't even gotten to the fact that you once mistook me for an orphan girl on the street corner," I continued, my father sitting in the corner drawing circles on the ground. "Oh, that felt good."

* * *

My father, at the time, was a man about as tall as any other, around five foot eleven, so he didn't exactly tower over anybody, but with a face like his, it made sense as to why it was easy to recognize him. My father isn't a very strong man, not having a whole lot of muscle attachments, and is in reality, a bit of a wimp, so I always found it ironic that he used to tell me to toughen up; but there is something about him that does make him look imposing. Along his right cheek is a long jagged scar from a time when he was younger that involved his own father and a steak knife…you figure it out. Aside from that, my father has the same colored hair as I do, granted it's in a crew-cut, unlike me own, we both share the gray eyes that most people from Russia and other Slavic countries do, and we both normally wear pretty casual clothing, only wearing the fancy stuff when we actually have to. Aside from those three factors, it'd be hard to distinguish us as father and son.

* * *

"So this is the father you're always complaining about, huh?" Marisol asked, my father's heart pierced by her words. "I'll say this, I'm almost glad you inherited your mom's looks," she said, another pierce to his chest, and to my own slightly. "But I have to say that you two have a pretty good relationship for the amount that you say he doesn't pay attention to you."

"Maybe I embellished it a bit, but the fact remains that Natsumi-nee is still my closest relative," I said, my father finally able to stand back up. "Not that I regret any time spent as your son," I said, turning away, streams of tears falling from my father's face as he jumped out at me, his arms outspread.

"Sasha!" he shouted, gripping onto my waist. "I knew you didn't hate you own father, and that this is just a phase you're going through!" he shouted, his tears almost beginning to stain my clothes, my fist slowly rumbling as the pounding sounds could be heard from the outside.

"Well, that takes care of that nuisance," I said, clapping my hands free of the dust accumulated, Marisol timidly turning over to where my father's mutilated body sat shivering out of near, incomprehensible pain. "It's always fun to beat up on my dad, so now we can talk freely."

"What happens when your mother finds him like this?" Marisol asked, pointing down at the near lifeless body. "What do you think she's going to say?"

"I knew you had it in you!" a woman said from the doorway, my face not exactly too thrilled by the sound of the voice. "To think my son has finally decided to see the excitement in such an act," she said as I placed my hand on my head, heart, and shoulders, gripping onto the crucifix in prayer. "What are you doing now, Sasha?" the woman asked as I turned around.

"Praying that it's not who I think it is," I answered quickly, the woman grabbing me from behind, the folds of her clothes covering up most of my face. "Seriously? Even in Paris you have to wear the kimono. It took that guy down there a few years before you even agreed to go near more modern clothing, and even then it took him begging to get you to wear them, or to get you to stop whatever it was you were doing," I said, Marisol cringing at the possible thought.

"Is that any way to treat your mother, young man?" the woman asked, I thought about saying something like what I told dad, but I knew there would be something hidden in that kimono that wouldn't end well for me. "Besides, you haven't been kind enough to introduce us to your girlfriend here," she said, Marisol chuckling slightly as she grabbed me from behind.

"Do you really think we look like a couple?" she asked, my mother nodding, of course, not saying I was enjoying any of it, but I figured Marisol would best explain. "I'm not his girlfriend; I'm just his partner in the first part of this tournament. Thanks for letting him enter; I've heard he's pretty good at the game we're playing. Who knows, I may just fall for him yet."

"That's my boy!" my father shouted, receiving both a kick and a slap from myself and my mother, respectively.

"Thank you for taking care of son, though," my mother said bowing. "We hope that he will find good fortune in this tournament, and that maybe this will be something he can actually handle," she said, giving me a sneer of condescension like she always did. "Well, we look forward to how this little game of your works," she said, picking up her unconscious husband before leaving the room. "Hopefully you're not wasting our vacation with this little thing of yours, but who am I to judge?"

"I wouldn't know, you're the one that does most it," I said as my father coaxed her out of the room, before she started to get too violent. "Nice people when you get to know them…of course I'm still working on that part, so we'll have to see how that goes. At any rate, why don't we get ready to go?"

"You definitely have a strange family, Sasha," Marisol said as she walked out with me towards the main tournament hall. "It's a good thing that we're the first ones battling, wouldn't want to keep you away from your mother; she sure seems a bit more clingy than you described her."

"She has a habit of being the dominant voice in our family, even when it comes to Natsumi-nee," I explained. "Her last husband had the same idea, and well, let's just say it kinda rubbed off on her. My dad is a champion in chess, and when my mother met him, he was more of a timid personality; you know, reserved, quiet, willing to do whatever the heck kind of sick games my mom wanted to play. Truth be told, I think that's how I was conceived."

"Too much information, kid," Marisol said as I chuckled to myself. "We gotta get focused, otherwise Mick's gonna walk all over us. That guy seriously needs an attitude adjustment."

"He's like any other jock," I said, the tournament hall becoming much more apparent to both of us, and I'll say this, the first paradigm shift I went through was nothing compared to what I went through. "How much you wanna bet he's gonna be distracted by all of the shiny objects?"

* * *

The inside of the room was like a sports arena, that's the best I could describe it; the stands surrounding us on all sides, reaching close to the ceilings, the major "playing field," if that's what you wanted to call it was completely circular, and if I could see it from above, would know exactly what it would be shaped like. But what intrigued me all the more was what stood in the center of the room; it was like one of the terminals that we had been battling on for the past week, only jumbo-sized. There was a screen above it to show how the battle would progress in real time, kind of like those play back screens at baseball stadiums, and at the different jack in ports, there were headsets instead of the classic microphones; made me think they wanted us to get into this a bit more.

As we walked towards the large terminal, I could barely see over the top of it as Elena and Mick stepped out at the same time, both of us reaching the ports together, making it look like we actually had this planned out. None of us were sure exactly how the format of this was going to work, but all we did know was that when things did begin, it would be sure to be in some kind of big elaborate show…sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice came over the loud speakers, although for us, it was more like to the side of the terminal, Kanata speaking. "As per the addition of the new games for the Pokémon franchise coming out at the end of this year, this tournament has been put into place to ensure that the order in which you play the game's major trainers is dependent on the results of this tournament. To demonstrate how the game will work, will by my assistant, Reina Lozano," he said, Reina walking up behind us, a chill running up my spine.

"Hello, everyone," she said cheerfully into a headset. "Looks like we got ourselves a full house today, huh? Well, as some of you may know, a virtual reality simulator has been developed to make the tournament you're watching all the more realistic," she said, placing a game system into one of the ports. "The players will place their games into the ports, and select their battle mode, which, for the purposes of this tournament branch, will be tag team battle," she said as the system activated, a figure beginning to appear on the screen in front of us, and on the large one on top. "The pokémon characters will be rendered as three dimensional figures, with the battles being as realistic as possible, let's show them, how this works, Kanata," she said as the pokémon in her game, a Swampert with the nickname Enkidu, and Kanata's, a Chatot with the name Glyph both faced each other on the battlefield.

"Glyph, Chatter!" Kanata said into one of the headsets, his pokémon beginning to fly into the air, letting out a large sound wave, riddled with excess amounts of background noise inside of it.

"Enkidu, Ice Punch," Reina said more calmly, her voice becoming as cold as the attack she had commanded her pokémon to use.

As the sound wave passed through Swampert, the water and ground type sliding back on the ground for a few feet, the large pokémon jumped up into the air, its front hand engulfed in cold, frigid air. Skyrocketing towards the flying type, Swampert made a single thrust of its punch, the impact giving off a freezing sound as Chatot fell to the ground beneath it, small parts of its feathers frozen. Reina gave of a satisfactory look, as did Kanata as both took their game systems out of the ports, the audience almost looking disappointed, hoping there would be more battle for them to watch.

"Aw, don't worry kids," Reina said, giving off a small wink as the lights began to dim around her. "The real event is going to be starting right now between these two pairs, randomly chosen to battle as teams as with the rest of the competitors. First off, from the world power of the United States, representing one of the most commonly used elements in the game of ground, please help me welcome, Mick Addison," she declared, a spotlight quickly shining over Mick, who was definitely eating up the fact that every eye in the room was turned to him.

"_A real glory hog that one,"_ I said to myself, Mick waving to everybody cheering for him…either that or for the country he came from. _"The real question is what's going to be the final irony with Elena?"_

"Next, as Mick's partner, from the nearby country of Spain, using one of the most powerful, and elusive, elements in the game of ghost, please join me in welcoming Elena Sanchez," Reina continued, the spotlight shining on the shy girl, blush beginning to cover her face as she looked out at everybody staring at her, a small smile appearing on her face. "And on the other team, the other representative of Spain, and using an element extremely well signifying her own personality and dance, using the element of electric, Marisol Torres," she announced, Marisol stepping into the light, and giving off a confident smile to everybody in the stands.

"_Oh boy, now it's gonna come to me,"_ I noticed all too quickly. _"Last time I had a whole bunch of people looking at me was when I was staying with my sister and she made me do that kabuki thing…why did I have to play the princess in that?"_ I said to myself, not even paying attention to what Reina was saying.

"And finally, a young man that may not even need too much introduction, from the massive country of Russia, using the element of fighting, please join me in welcoming Sasha Takebana!" she said the loudest, a small squeal in her voice as she did, the spotlight turning to me, not exactly sure what to do, still trying to think of anything to keep me from looking like an idiot.

All I could do was stop and stare at everything around me, the cheering suddenly ceased while they were looking at me, some of them stopping to whisper to the people around them, and somehow I knew what would happen next. I began scratching my head through my hair, the individual strands getting flipped back as I moved it out, a loud thud being heard from the stands. As the other three stopped to look, I rubbed my forehead already knowing that half of the stands had now been resting places for the spectators…the male half. Reina looked down at me surprised, and a little impressed, although I have no idea why, but as it stood, we were all introduced and no seemed like a pretty good time to get this shindig underway.

"All right you four; are you ready to battle?" she asked, as we all answered at the same time, placing our game systems into the ports along the terminals, a screen already displaying our pokémon, and two empty slots to move them into. "They, let's get going. Battle start!" she declared as we all chose our pokémon and the screen blanked out, turning into a stage almost identical to the one we were on.

* * *

"And so we finally see what those four are capable of," Leon said from the stands, seven other competitors sitting up in the stands with him; Brett, Aspen, Naoko, Aruku, Trinity, Luo, and Meixiang. "It should be interesting to see where this all leads to in the end for our pompous friend."

"Strange how you continually dwell on Mick's attitude towards others," Brett said, looking around the stands. "I take it theses stands were specified for the other tournament reps?"

"Along with family," Kanata said from the side, walking towards the group, two people walking behind him. "May I introduce the parents of Sasha Takebana, Pavil and Kimiko Takebana," he said bowing, introducing my parents to the others. "They've asked us to have these spots reserved for them so they can watch their son play," he explained both of the taking a seat behind the others. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to another matter."

"So you're Sasha-kun's mom, huh?" Naoko asked. "He told me he got a lot of his looks from you," she said, a smile on her face, suddenly feeling the cloth of my mother's kimono wrap around her quickly, bringing her up close to her. "What did I do?"

"I see," my mother said, my father already backing away from his wife out of near terror. "So you're the one that Natsumi doesn't trust with my son, huh?" she asked, Naoko and the others freezing in place at the sudden declaration of what happened over a week ago. "I don't know about leaving my son in the hands of a scrawny girl like you, but, then again, if somebody doesn't do something fast, he may have a boyfriend before a girlfriend," she said, Naoko slightly embarrassed by the implication my mother was implying.

"Obviously the two of you are definitely of two minds," Leon said to my father, who was, by this point, cowering behind another of the seats in the stands. "I take it you both have ways that you contributed to the way Sasha is now?"

"I guess you could say that, but him playing this game is something completely new to me," my father said, taking his seat, still able to see Naoko struggling to get out of my mother's grip behind him. "My only expertise in games is in chess, and my wife's taste in games, probably aren't for the easily offended. So what's the basis of this game?"

"It'll be better if you just watch for the moment," Aspen said, the battle screen finally loading completely, and two individual pokéballs from each side of the battlefield were sent out into the fray, opening as they hit the ground.

* * *

On Mick's and Elena's side of the field, both pokéballs opened immediately, a Mamoswine with the nickname Iceberg, and a Misdreavus with the nickname Missy to the field, both of their respective users placing the headsets over their ears, position the microphone. As the two pokéballs from our own side opened, I wasn't so sure of my choice of pokémon, just hoping that Marisol's would be of some help; from my side, my Hariyama, Alpha, and from Marisol, an Eelektross named Indra. I sighed out of relief that she had a lick of common sense when it came to her pokémon.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Mick asked, holding his hand out towards the center of his own screen. "Iceberg, take Mister Sumo out quickly, Earthquake!" he shouted. "Elena, how 'bout a little back up?" he asked, Elena silently nodding, bringing the speaker of the microphone towards her own mouth.

"Missy, Shadow Ball, please," she said timidly, the small ghost flipping around once, the attack beginning to charge in its mouth.

"Indra, Aqua Tail on the overgrown pig!" Marisol called out as I was the only one not to make a move, and truth be told, I was beginning to feel a bit nervous, simply looking forward at Alpha.

I knew everybody was watching me up in the stands, and for the first time, people were going to try and see me as a male, but even then, I knew that the thought of me being a girl was still passing through their minds. I looked up, the battle still not having commenced fully, knowing that it wouldn't until I did something. For a second, though, it seemed as the entire world around me was gone, and there was just me and Alpha, my Hariyama. It didn't even seem like there was supposed to be conversation between us, but all I knew was that the look he gave me wasn't one that a person would've been glad to look upon. I remembered the rules of the tournament when they were given to each of us when we were making our pokémon parties, but there was one in particular that made everything else seem as though there were pokémon we had to choose that meant something to us.

One of the rules that we had to follow was that we had to use the starting pokémon we received in the games, and all the while I was playing the game, I kept thinking about how I was going to have to use this starter of mine to actually battle in this tournament without breaking the rules of the tournament. Alpha was my first pokémon, given to me by the character's martial arts master out of selection of three pokémon, Mankey, Makuhita, or Machop. And the way I felt Alpha feeling at that very moment forced me to think that I was letting him down, and then there was another presence.

I wasn't sure who it was whether they were male or female, all I knew is that their presence was powerful, unwavering, and lecturing. They looked as though they wanted to speak, but they didn't have to, I knew what they were going to say. As I stood between the figure and Alpha, knowing that everybody around me was waiting for me to make a move, I simple looked forward, reality beginning to become more present in my vision, the stands quiet, waiting for me to at least do something.

"Alpha, forgive the delay," I said, Mick and Elena looking down. "Force Palm that Mamoswine, now!" I said powerfully, already sending chills through to most people in the stands.

The battle began to commence, and given the pokémon present it would have only made sense for Indra to go first, but what happened next was a bit less expected. It seemed as though Alpha had disappeared, only to reappear behind the Mamoswine named Iceberg, Mick looking at the screen in front of him in disbelief, looking up at the icon of the Quick Claw item in place. With power beginning to surge in its palm, Alpha pushed Mamoswine from behind, the attack doing enough to force it down to two thirds of its original HP; it's bulky, what else can I say?

As Mamoswine slid across the battlefield, Indra was next to attack, its elongated tail engulfed in the powerful current, slamming down on Mick's pokémon, Mamoswine sliding off to the right from the attack, its HP still having about one third left. Iceberg slid across the battlefield, Indra turning its attention off to the side, second before being blasted by the Shadow Ball Elena's Misdreavus was to be using. After the attack had been made, I was beginning to have doubts about my original thoughts about her Misdreavus; seeing it deplete Eelektross' HP to at least three quarters of its original health, made me think that Elena was a stronger trainer than she made herself out to be.

"Hey, don't be forgetting about Mick," Mick said, speaking again in what I had come to know as the royal third person, or just the royal pain. "Iceberg, do you thing, and give back a little of what Sumo boy did to you," he said, Mamoswine standing up on its hind feet, and bringing them down as powerfully as Alpha pushed up against him.

The shock waves of the attack stayed on the ground, only affecting Hariyama, but were still powerful enough to make the vibrations almost apparent to me as I saw Alpha stumble in his footing against the massive attack. The result of the attack was almost the same amount, or even more, than the damage I was able to do to him as a result of my own attack. For some reason, I was beginning to have a new appreciation for the way that Mick did his battling; it was simplistic, pure, refreshing, and to the point, unlike the rest of us who had some kind of advanced, and intricate strategy.

"So, I take it you're not the kind who plays pokémon all the time, huh, Mick?" I asked, Mick looking up at me with a confident, if not condescending smile. "Obviously you must've been good to catch the eyes of some of the Pokémon Company reps for this tournament. And yet, I can't help but fell your heart really isn't into this."

"This is just a hobby, obviously," Mick answered. "A little bit of fun to keep this mind thinking about what comes next. I don't see why it should matter to you, though, you being so much weaker in the body," he said, almost tauntingly. "Seriously, come back to talk when you can at least lift your own body weight."

"You're a decent strategist at best, I'll say that much," I said, a small nerve being plucked at the sound of the word 'decent.' "But don't you think that constantly building yourself up is only gonna cause that much more disappointment when you lose?" I asked as the thought of losing making his temper almost run wild. "But then again, Mick Addison can't lose," I said as a reassuring look came over his face. "He just gives up," I said directly after, Mick about to blow his top.

"If you think you have even a shred of the same talent Mick has, then prove it to me by beating at least one of my pokémon by yourself!" Mick shouted across the stadium. "Everything that you've said to me has been nothing more than words to hide behind, and I know what it's like to just hide behind words; it's why you have to have the muscle to back them up."

"Very well," I said, bringing the speaker on the headset back up to my mouth. "Alpha, take him out, Close Combat!" I shouted, everyone in the stands looking at me like I was crazy, Mick giving off the same kind of condescending smile.

"Come at me, then, Iceberg, Ice Shard!" he shouted in the same way, the Mamoswine already preparing its attack, Elena and Marisol both preparing their own speakers. "Elena, I think you can help me out with this a little bit, let's make sure they don't get another shot off," he said, Elena meekly nodding.

"Missy, Sucker Punch," she said, Misdreavus disappearing behind Indra, quickly ramming into it as the first move of the exchange. "Thank you, Missy," she said to her pokémon as Marisol let out a wide smile, holding the speaker steady at her face.

"Indra, take down that little pipsqueak, will you?" she asked, Indra's body beginning to charge electricity more readily. "Thunderbolt!" she commanded, the electricity almost being too much to handle, almost making the battle scene forget about Mamoswine's attack as the diamond shaped chunk of ice sped by Eelektross, and directly at Hariyama.

The attack impacted, and Hariyama's HP continued to go down into the yellow area of the bar, although not quite to the point of actually being considered a decently sized attack, still leaving me closer to the halfway mark rather than going towards no HP whatsoever. Hariyama broke off from the attack, and then jumped into the air, tumbling over and over again until it landed in front of Mamoswine bashing him continually with both of its hands, whether as fists or as straight palms, and then picked it up, twirling it around several times before landing on top of it in a giant smash, the game quickly returning it to the ball, leaving Mick slightly annoyed.

"So you got a lucky shot off, I assure you it won't happen again," Mick said, almost as though the fact he lost one of his pokémon didn't matter, but even I could tell it did something to him; losing a pokémon after all that talk of him being better than he was letting on, and now he was losing to a little kid like me; I recognized the look, it was like Brett's.

* * *

Speaking of, back in the stands, the others watching the match were left in awe of the realism behind the attacks, almost oblivious to the fact that both of my parents were utterly confused by what was happening, my father tapping Leon on the shoulder to see if he could get some answers.

"Okay, I watched, and I am still confused as heck," he said, Leon chuckling slightly at his bluntness. "What is the entire premise of this game? It's times like this that I really regret leaving Sasha alone all this time; I want to know what my son is doing, but looking at it is hard to understand completely."

"The basis of the game is basically like chess or checkers," Leon said. "Basically the game takes place in a world, a lot like our own, with changes in architecture, and the obvious thing of course being the species of creatures in the world which are used for all kinds of purposes in the world. There at least six hundred fifty of these species, all categorized by, at most, seventeen elements which the competitors of this tournament use for their teams."

"And I heard that woman say earlier my son was using fighting," my father noted. "What does that mean?"

"Elements are broken up by a pokémon's physical characteristics and often the kinds of abilities they have in the games," Brett went on to explain. "When one speaks of a fighting element, they usually refer to the pokémon that specialize in the ways of martial arts, focused, chi, and physical based power as opposed to other elements that make use of an actual element such as electricity or fire. But like Leon said, pokémon can have a secondary element which is also based on the same criteria, but right now, the only out there that has a second element would've been Mick's Mamoswine."

"Now, why did it seem some of the moves Sasha's creatures used were more powerful than the ones that the other guy used?" my father asked, by this point, I think he was genuinely interested in the mechanics of the game. "Because when the first one fought him, its moves didn't seem so powerful, and Sasha's did a lot more damage."

"All moves access a certain percentage of power based on the kind of move they are, what kind of pokémon uses them, and the kind of pokémon they're used on," Leon tried to explain. "When Sasha used that move Force Palm earlier, it made access of at least one hundred eighty percent of his pokémon's power," he explained, the numbers seeming astronomical to my father. "And the move that Mick used right after, used about one fifty percent; it's a complicated process sure, but anyone with basic math skills can figure it out."

"And to think my son has become an actual contender in this thing," my father said, amazed at the progress I had made. "You know I should've believed in him more; he was never into the same things all the other boys his age were into, and no matter what I did, it just never seemed like I was a person he could talk to."

"Words are often wasted on deaf ears," Brett said, not exactly taking too kindly to him. "Chances are Sasha has tried to tell you what he likes, but you and your wife were to deaf to her what he had to say," he said, my father nodding in understanding. "But your son is a good man at heart, if not an effeminate one."

"I know, isn't he just so cute," my mother asked, the others around her beginning to find more similarities between her and my sister than I was going to be willing to confirm. "I'm so glad he's kept his hair so long, it's going to be a major waste when he actually cuts it. It's just too bad Natsumi couldn't have come here to watch him."

"_It might even better if she weren't,"_ Naoko said to herself, looking back down at the battlefield where Indra's Thunderbolt attack had finally made its strike on Misdreavus. _"I don't know how she would feel about Sasha-kun having this much attention drawn to him,"_ she said as Misdreavus was knocked back towards the end of the battlefield, still able to battle, but still weakened.

* * *

Moving his hand across the screen in front of him, Mick sneered as he sent out his second pokémon, one that Naoko looked down at with pity, seeing the large wings and pincers of the Gliscor nicknamed Saint, snapping its claws together at my, already, exhausted pokémon. I didn't even both commanding Alpha, as soon as Saint took to the field, Mick had it instantly use Ariel Ace, boasting a speed higher than even Eelektross, defeating my pokémon instantly. Marisol had commanded Indra to use another Thunderbolt against Misdreavus, defeating it, and sending it back to the pokéball, leaving it as the only pokémon form the original battle to be left standing.

I knew my parents were looking at me, I didn't want to look back; I knew they were probably thinking, why the heck am I even doing this, or maybe they were thinking, is this really the best way for me to be spending my time. I turned to the audience stands where I knew they would, and instead of looking disappointed, I could see something else; excitement. While it mostly came from my dad, I knew they weren't mad, which was a new experience for me, let me tell you. My mother's eyes were what surprised me the most; they were warm for the first time, gentle, and they weren't planning anything malicious for once, again, story for another time. I let out a small smile, moving my hand across the screen to send out my second pokémon.

"Omega, may you be their end," I said, I knew it sounded cheesy, but it did give me a bit of confidence as my Scrafty took the field, looking as though it were chewing tobacco…or bubblegum, whichever works. "Let's see how well you battle against this one," I said, Elena also sending out her last pokémon, a Gengar with the nickname Noche.

"Please, help me win," she said quietly, and that's when I started figuring things out about Elena, and I wasn't sure about how to react to some of them.

"_If it were anyone else, nobody would even think about hanging around that arrogant jerk of a jock,"_ I said, looking back over at Mick, a wide smile on his face at his Gliscor. _"She needs him, she looks at him and sees hope for what she can become. Both of them are like two side of the same coin; the masks of comedy and tragedy they wear are based on how they see the world around them. Mick can see the world as his throne, waiting for him to command everything with that idiotic brain of his, and Elena is almost afraid to be seen; her commands to her pokémon have barely been audible, it's a wonder the computer can pick up on it, but maybe's better of that way in general. This team only knows one thing, but have very different versions of it; reality is something they cannot escape. Whether that reality is actually conceivable, that's another story."_

"Enough stalling, let's get on with this," Mick said, Elena chuckling slightly at his attitude. "Eelektross is our priority right now," he said, Elena nodding in agreement. "Saint, X-Scissor!"

"Noche, Dark Pulse," Elena said after, much more quietly, Gengar jumping in first, bobbing and weaving past both Scrafty and Eelektross, eventually behind both, releasing a small vortex of wickedly colored power at the electric type, blasting it forward, straight at Gliscor, who already had its claws prepared.

With one slash downward, the rest of Eelektross' HP had been depleted, returning it to the pokémon, a tiny sliver of HP disappearing from Gliscor, Marisol letting out a dissatisfied grunt as she slid her hand across the screen below her to send out her last pokémon. Letting a smile pass by her lips, she watched as a pool of water appeared on our end of the battlefield, with a Lanturn, with the name Lei Gong, jumping from the pokéball, and straight into the water. Looking directly at Mick, Marisol kept her sneer going as Mick let out a sigh of disappointment, turning our attention over to him.

"You really don't seem to have a grasp on the way a tag team battle works," he said, both of us giving him a glare as though we were waiting for his explanation. "A tag team battle has two people, but if you're always concerned about just the one, how can you hope to defeat the other?" he asked. "I get that you're worried about me taking out on my own, which is definitely a possibility, but have you forgotten that Elena is still a threat to both of you?" he asked, Elena looking at him surprised by the implication.

"Ghosts are by nature faster, and immune to my element," I explained for him as Mick smiled. "You're saying that because of the obvious weakness that Marisol has to you, and the weakness you can exploit, we'll innately focus on you rather then go for the one person who has neither weakness, nor would take any damage from me under normal circumstances?"

"I don't think people give each other enough credit, and Elena is definitely deserving of some," Mick said, Elena blushing slightly at how much she was being talked about. "Besides, any athlete can tell you that there is no 'I' in team, and right now, she's my team," he said, Elena still blushing, but a smile beginning to run across her face. "And I know that with her, I have a better chance of winning than with anyone else in this tournament."

"Then let's see her prove her own strength," I said, turning to my pokémon with the speaker brought back up to my mouth. "Omega, Crunch!" I shouted, Scrafty instantly springing into action, charging after Gengar, the ghost pokémon looking back at Elena, the ever present grin on its face.

"Noche, Thunderbolt," she commanded, Gengar's body beginning to charge with electricity, eventually forcing the entirety of it out towards Omega, impacting full one with the bottom of its chin, flipping him back over, but otherwise, not defeated. "Thank you, Noche," she said with a smile.

"Don't count Mick out, just yet," Mick said, holding his hand out over his screen as Gliscor let out a vicious chuckle. "X-Scissor!" he commanded, Gliscor ramming into Scrafty before it could even reach Gengar, slashing it twice downward in the crossing formation, another sliver of HP disappearing after the attack, but still not enough to defeat it, leaving it in the area of less than half, a small item icon appearing over it.

Looking as though it were some kind of fruit, the item dropped down onto Scrafty, many of its injuries instantly being healed as its HP gauge went back into the top three quarter area, finally able to use its attack on Gengar; biting down on the ghost type's arm, refusing to let go. The attack continued to deplete its health until Omega was thrown off, landing back on its feet, still making the chewing motion with its mouth. Mick scoffed as Scrafty jumped back out of the way, Lei Gong already charging an attack from where it sat in the water, making him look at the water freezing underneath it.

"Oh, crud," he said, Marisol snapping her fingers with a smile as she gave off another smile with Lanturn blasting at Gliscor with an Ice Beam attack. "What about your showing me that you were a man like me, Sasha?"

"Like you said, there is no 'I' in team," I said, Mick, instead of getting angrier, chuckled slightly at how easily I was able to quote him. "And right now, Marisol is all the team I'm going to need in this tournament," I said, Marisol ruffling up my hair as Mick turned his attention back to where Saint was on the verge of being attacked.

As the beam began to overcome Gliscor, the ground and flying mix, could do nothing but watch helplessly as its body was frozen completely, starting from the wings, and down to its tail and claws. Its HP bar showed it slowly becoming weaker, and weaker until it stopped, millimeters before it would have been defeated, Lei Gong losing a small amount of HP as Saint did. Mick looked up at Gliscor, amazed by the fact it had survived, breaking out of the ice with one mighty swing of a barely free claw, and weakly flying back over the other pokémon's heads. Looking up at it, Mick began to chuckle slightly, until it became a complete fit of laughter, myself following directly after.

"Oh, man, you guys just made my day, I'll tell you that much," Mick said. "I can't tell you how it feels to almost lose and then realize you've been given another chance."

"I think we do more than you realize," I said, Marisol and Elena both staring us, smiling at each other. "We should end this now, though, shouldn't we?" I asked, Mick wiping away a small water droplet from his eye.

"Yeah, and I know just how that's gonna end," he said confidently, turning to Elena who nodded at him. "Saint, finish him off, Aerial Ace!" he commanded, Gliscor flying higher into the sky above Omega, swooping down to attack him, its wings already charging power.

"Gengar, use one big Giga Impact on Lei Gong," Elena said, her voice slightly more audible as her pokémon began to charge power throughout its entire body, making a quick dash towards Lanturn, the water and electric mix helpless to evade the attack.

Despite Gengar not having the same power in physical moves as it did in special attacks, it sped across the battlefield, mere inches off of the ground, an alternating purple and yellow light surrounding it as it rammed into Lanturn, the splash from the impact looking so realistic I was about ready to shield myself from the oncoming downpour. Impressive, while it may have been, the attack wasn't as well received from our side of the battlefield as it quickly, and concisely defeated Lanturn, leaving us with one pokémon left…mine, Gengar's HP being restored slightly by the sight of the Shell Bell item appearing above it.

I looked back up at the screen, Gliscor just now making his final thrust down to where Omega was, its wings fully charged for the attack. I don't know why, but I began to clutch the cross around my neck, praying for some kind of miracle, knowing that in a video game, though, it wasn't going to happen. I saw the attack strike Omega, the HP bar moving faster down than it had for the entire battle, and I placed my head down in defeat.

"_And so this is it,"_ I said, looking back at Marisol. _"I entered this tournament, confident in my abilities, and in the end, I wasn't able to do a thing,"_ I finished, ready to admit defeat when something seemed to be catching everyone's eyes, and mine too by this point.

Not in my wildest dreams would I have believed it was possible to see what was there, but sure enough, I was watching Omega, fighting back against the Aerial Ace, still affected by it, but still, it was standing; able to battle, and I looked at my HP bar, the reading wasn't one like somebody was expecting, but it was pretty darn close. Scrafty gripped as hard as it could onto Gliscor, throwing it back, the last bit of HP it had, depleted by the Life Orb it was obviously holding, the pokémon being returned. Every mouth in the stadium was cheering at what just happened, some wondering if it was stage, or whatever, and let me tell you, this was all real. I turned back to Gengar, weakened from having used Giga Impact, leaving me with the perfect opportunity.

"Omega, Crunch!" I commanded, Scrafty having no interference this time in biting down on Gengar, leaving it with minimal HP at best, and no way to attack on the next turn. "I can't believe we actually did it, Marisol," I said, Marisol hitting my head lightly as she turned my attention back to Gengar.

"Celebrate after we win," she said as I nodded in agreement, not wanting to take any chances, though, I brought the microphone on the headset back down to my mouth, and spoke the final attack.

"Faint Attack…," I said, the last sounds trailing off my mouth as the attack happened; Omega disappeared, only to appear behind Gengar, about to attack, but disappeared again, reappearing to the right, and continuing in the pattern until at last, he reached the front of his opponent. "Omega, you truly were their end," I said, as Omega made a final tackle forward, Noche falling back to the floor, defeated, and being returned all too quickly to its pokéball.

There was a long moment of silence, nobody was sure of what had happened, but after the siren from the terminal had been sounded, the entire stadium erupted into applause. I was almost embarrassed to look up at everybody, and before I could shrink away, Marisol wrapped me up in a hug, squeezing me as hard as she could. I didn't fight her, I knew why she was happy; she had her own goal in coming here, and I just helped her come one step closer to completing it. I looked back at Mick and Elena, the latter waving at me with a smile, mouthing the words "good job," and Mick, well, I didn't know what to think, because he just started walking away. I figured he was just being stuck up, but after he was getting closer to the waiting room in the back, he turned to the side, and gave a quick thumbs up.

* * *

Elena followed after him until both were back in the waiting room again, Mick reaching into one of the lockers for his things, and looked back at Elena who seemed worried about the way he was acting. Before she could say anything, he let out a small smirk, and sat down, looking up at the ceiling.

"Normally I would say that luck wasn't on my side," he said, looking out at the tournament hall, Marisol still clinging onto me as hard as she could. "But somehow, when that Ice Beam didn't beat Saint, I have to think there was something else in all of that," he continued, Elena smiling at him. "Whenever a player is taken out of the game, you can't help but feel that you've lost a part of your family out there. Is it possible to feel this same thing for a bunch of pixels, I wonder."

"He's an interesting kid, isn't he?" Elena asked, Mick looking out at me from where he was sitting. "His pokémon seem to respond to him."

"Maybe this is what Leon was talking about," Mick said. "Too bad I couldn't have figured it out sooner; we might've made it a bit further in the tournament. Sorry 'bout that, Ellie," Mick said, Elena shaking her head.

"I had a lot of fun battling with you," she said walking past him. "I'd like to do it again someday," she said, before leaving the room, Mick looking back towards both Marisol and I still celebrating our victory.

* * *

Back in one of the darker areas of the tournament center, alone with a computer, typing with speed like lightning, Kanata stood up above the hunched figure, his arms folded over his chest. Looking down at what he was typing, Kanata was met by the figure's cold stare that made him turn away immediately.

"Forgive me for being a bit concerned at how long it's taking to trace a phone call," Kanata said, the figure not paying him attention. "Do you really think this is going to help us find him?" he asked, the figure sitting up straight, and turning to him.

"Trust me," he said. "If I can't find whoever this thief is, then my name is no longer Stuart Wakahisa," he said, a game system by his computer. "You do promise to keep this a secret from the others, even while I'm battling in the tournament, right?" he asked, Kanata replying positively. "Perfect…"

* * *

Character Appearances (By Dialogue):

Sasha Takebana (Fighting): Gallade (Gamma), Hariyama (Alpha), Scrafty (Omega), Emboar (Theta), Conkeldurr (Sigma), other Pokémon TBA. NightFall00

Reina Lozano (Tournament Rep): Swampert (Enkidu), other Pokémon TBA. The Red King

Kanata Kawagashi (Tournament Rep): Chatot (Glyph), other Pokémon TBA. Miss Tigger

Marisol Torres (Electric): Jolteon (Set), Eelektross (Indra), Magnezone (Zeus), Lanturn (Lei Gong), other Pokémon TBA. red. truth

Mick Addison (Ground): Gliscor (Saint), Mamoswine (Iceberg), Flygon (Bellewitz), other Pokémon TBA. CodyOnTheBounce T.V.

Elena Sanchez (Ghost): Gengar (Noche), Misdreavus (Missy), other Pokémon TBA. PhatomStorm and DrummerGirl

Leon Ryder (Flying): Charizard, Staraptor, Gliscor, other Pokémon TBA. Jexo

Naoko Kato (Steel): Skarmory (Huru), Lucario (Ruko), Scizor (Kana), other Pokémon TBA. Cyanide the Sneasel

Brett Kuso (Water): Samurott, Quagsire, Poliwrath, Gyarados, other Pokémon TBA. AshKetchumDarkSide

Stuart Wakahisa (Normal): Pokémon TBA. Moth's Aflame

* * *

Notes:

Notre Dame: Go ahead, make all the silly hunchback jokes you want, but this is one of the most memorable churches in the world, or probably the most memorable. Notre Dame is actually a shortened version of the name "Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris" which translates to "Cathedral Our Lady of Paris." Notre Dame was constructed, beginning in the mid twelfth century, and construction of it wasn't completed until the mid fourteenth century; meaning that for over two hundred years, Notre Dame was what I call a "W.I.P.," or work in progress. Notre Dame, however, is more than a church, and houses many schools, and musical trips taken there by high school students are actually very common (I was given the opportunity myself), the grand organ there being the coup de grace of the entire trip, but what's even more interesting is that underneath the church is one of the many underground crypts that are under the Parisian streets. Like in a lot of places in Pairs, the dead were buried underground, and the visiting of such places is common to the point it almost becomes creepy, but if you ever are in Paris, the cathedral of Notre Dame must be a stop.

* * *

Chapter six complete. Well, at least I was able to get a battle in for the tournament, not as many as I would've liked, but what're gonna do. So, I'm going to be giving you an updated list of the tournament pairings as they happen so that way you know who's next, hopefully you enjoyed this chapter.

* * *

Round 1 Listings:

Block A:

Sasha Takebana/Marisol Torres v. Mick Addison/Elena Sanchez (Winner: Sasha Takebana/Marisol Torres)

Julien Durand/Sorrel Devlin v. Stuart Wakahisa/Louise Castillo (Winner: TBA)

Block B:

Luo Sun/Meixiang Fong v. Brett Kuso/Aspen Kizuna (Winner: TBA)

Aruku Castiel/Naoko Kato v. Leon Ruder/Trinity Johnson (Winner: TBA)

Round 2 Listings:

Block A:

Sasha Takebana/Marisol Torres v. TBA

Block B:

TBA

Final Round Listings:

TBA


End file.
